I had spent most of this week in LCK (Lim Chu Kang) because our company had to support 3 Guards in their ATEC. Going to LCK had never been a love affair for me as long as I could remember. LCK is swarmed with mosquitoes, uneven tracks, lots of knolls, and desolate.
I was appointed as the IC for the team of fire markers attached to the unit evaluating the battalion. Since this was the first time I am responsible for a team in a major exercise, my lack of experience translated into a hasty preparation on the 11th hour. Many thanks to Sergeant Fadly from MT line for his help despite my last minute request for motorcycles. Really appreciated him showing me the ropes and fixing some bike problems last minute, although very little repairs could be done with such a little time.
Since I am a brillant man, no job would pose too difficult for me. Limpeh is Ahlangod. (Ah Lang God). Expectedly, we managed to set off on Monday morning at 0745 hrs without a hitch.
To our disappointment, our first day at PLC was a waste of time. We were supposed to set off only on Tuesday morning. The only productive job ATEC required of us on Monday was to collect rations for the umpires and enemies.
On Tuesday, we were told to navigate on our own for 3 hours to familiarise ourselves with the terrain and the sites which we are supposed to "bomb". Navigation had never a problem for me. My army buddy (before I disrupted) was a good navigator who seldom "horlan-ed". Tagging along with him and learning his technique allowed me to develop a solid foundation in moving on the ground. Therefore despite not navigating as much as him (since I was the signaller), I am equally adept with a map and compass.
Remember, limpeh is Ahlangod.
With the bombing sites at our finger tips, we eagerly awaited for the moment (to bomb people) that never came. It was to be revealed to us later that the officer up there did not exercise his utilities and activate us, thus depriving us of the chance throw thunderflashes at pathetic soldiers. We could only clutch our thunderflashes in tears and go to sleep in the mosquito infested night.
The next night was similar. We had to scout our bombing sites (this time in the night) and wait in stand by mode. The only difference was that this time we had to wait in the open compared to a training shed the previous night. After all the preparation had been done, me and my friends parked our bikes and rested at our holding area. There was only one thing left to do before the moment of truth came.
Wait.
With each passing minute, whatever interest we had would soon be replaced by fatigue and boredom. Suddenly, we heard a shuffle in the bushes and a dark shadow emerged and strolled across the junction. Startled by the presence of so many humans (there was a whole company of soldiers camping at our holding area with us), the wild boar mustered whatever courage it had and sprinted back into his cover among the bushes.
There wasn't much of any interesting episodes after the pig, and for the first time in the night, I had the chance to sit back and took in whatever it was worth. Stacking my SBO and field pack on the rack of my motorcycle, I did a well rehearsed drill performed so flawlessly many times over the years.
To lie down flat on a motorcycle.
Did that remind you of xiao long nuu sleeping on a rope in "The Return of the Condor Heros"? There were a couple of similarities between my stunt and hers. Both needed skill to execute, and comfort would only be felt for the masters. Beginners would be too unnerved to feel any enjoyment.
So as I lay down on the bike and fed the moquitoes, my mind started to wander as usual. I was rather surprised that I did not horlan while navigating in the night. Maybe because I was on bike so any mistakes could easily be rectified by retracing the path. Or maybe because of the way I find my way around.
"Just go in the general direction and confirm your ground whenever you reach a junction or a significant landmark." - My army buddy four years ago.
Sounds like how I find my way around in life as well, only that it would show how aimless my life had been. I don't have any specific goal in life (as yet). I live my life with a general gut feeling and time and again take stock of myself whenever I realised the need to.
So the advice my buddy gave me was useful in terms of navigation but not in life. I won't lose my way in desolate places but I lost my way in the midst of people. Girls won't find any sense of security in me. haha
Suddenly I realised that my old friends were up in the sky. They had been there for me in Tekong, ROC, Wallaby, whatever, and whenever I am thinking of what to do with my life. They were the landmarks which I had been using to "confirm ground" in my life. They were always there for me when I had to ruminate things my mind.
They are the stars.
In Tekong, I just wanted to go home back in the mainland. In ROC, I wanted to put down that stupid signal set, disrupt, and continue with my studies. In Wallaby, I was actually happy to be there because it was a free trip and the scenary was beautiful. In LCK, I was actually admiring the stars for the first time. I was a fool not to have appreciated them when they were more brillant overseas. But nonetheless in LCK, they had not lost much of their sparkle.
Would they fall like Heaven's coins?
Rationally they won't. Romatically they would. I think I am more rational than romantic.
But somehow, I had this feeling that I would miss the stars. Maybe because I would be leaving the army soon? As experience showed, I did not have the chance to see such a night sky in the four years I spent away from the army in university.
Although this would not be the last time in my life that I would be staring at such a beautiful night sky,
But for a long long time to come,
This would be the last night under the stars.
Saturday, April 22, 2006
Friday, April 21, 2006
Last Goal In RH
I cleared half a day of leave today as advised by my bosses because they could not promise ORD personnels like me and the commanders a full block leave prior to our ORD dates. Determined not to spend this rare weekday afternoon alone, but yet troubled by the fact that most of my friends were busy working, I headed back to my uni hostel to play hardcourt football.
Another reason that formed part of the inpetus for me to return was that today could well be the last time I am able to play with my friends back there because their exams start next week. It would not be polite to disturb them then, and after their exams most of them would move out of hall for their annual long vacation. To make it simple,
If I don't go back today, I would never have the chance to.
Prior to the football, I had tea with them in comm hall. It was nice catching up with them and learning of they plan to do after graduation. It was still early after tea, only 1700. People would only trickle down to the hardcourt after 1730. Without standing on ceremony, I accepted Tweety's invitation to his room for a bout of winning eleven 9.
Today's game did not bear the usual rivalry back in the old days. My Ronaldinho and Ronaldo did not look menacing, considering they used to glide through Tweety's defence effortlessly. On the other hand, his Veron just passed through balls after through balls for Adriano to pounce on. Final score? 0-2. Possession? 30%-70%.
I was raped today.
To add insult to injury, Tweety wasn't paying particular attention to the game. In fact, we weren't concentrating on the game. If a third party were to observe how we were playing, we would appear as two idiots staring blankly at the screen punching buttons on the controllers.
Our mind was not on the game but more of chatting.
Tweety had the intention of joining the education service as a PE teacher, and took the opportunity to consult me on several matters. Things like payscale, prospects, etc. I could only give him whatever I knew because I have not joined the service as well. All my knowledge was from friends who are currently teaching now. PE teaching should be the ideal career for him as it complements his lifestyle and character. He is a good sportsman, and the restraints of a 9 to 5 job would definitely take its toll on his sports (He plays football for a club). Moreover he is not materialistic or ambitious, so teaching PE would be the perfect choice :)
Finally it was time to play football at the hardcourt. I must admit my touches had long deserted me. I was outclassed almost everywhere on the court! People were playing pinball all around me and I was reduced to chasing shadows. Even Tweety was reluctant to pass me the ball because I couldn't get it accurately to wherever I wanted it to go.
My incompetence aside, I had many fond memories of this hardcourt. It was where I received my "divine" skills, and made my hall friends. I had even literally broke an arm and a leg while playing in it.
What happened?
Many thanks to Michael Bollocks for giving me a challenge in the rush of blood to send me landing on one arm, in the process dislocating my elbow 1 month before my 3rd sem exams. The dislocated toe was self inflicted. I slided at Tommy the sexy footballer during inter block games in a failed attempt to impress girls. Those were the days of being young and impetuous. I couldn't even remember now when was the last time I slided at someone.
It was also the place which bred our fury against the star-studded final year team when I was a freshie. The final years then would invade the hardcourt in their gang and shove others aside. Diplomatically they would rotate the games among the teams, applying the "one goal rule". However, they were so good that my year one team would concede a goal in less than a minute and the other final year teams would play close to 20 minutes before conceding. Meritocracy abused?
Things got better during our second year. After the final years had graduated, they left behind a void in the pool which me and my gang of friends quickly filled. I was fortunate to find myself in that window when the first team needed new players. Had I joined NUS a year earlier, it would be difficult to break into the first team. A year earlier would mean spending two years on the bench while watching the final years play. A year later would deprive me of developing the fury and impetus to become a footballing god after all the abuses from the final years. Life at the hardcourt was the best during my second year, because that was when me and my gang of friends from my batch would swarm the hardcourt everyday. Some of them would even get there BEFORE me. FFB (fuck fuck boy) from china would always wear his egoistic basketball jersey which carried his name and start ramming the ball towards the wall straight after tea. It was him which I took after his passion for improving his technique.
Our fortunes in the inter hall games (IHG) that year were not very good. We drew with SH 1-1 before a trashing by KR 0-5 in the group stages. Needless to say, we got knocked out in the group stages and that disappointing defeat was the reason why many of gang left hall after that year. Disillusioned and jaded. Snow, Dong, Xiao Ming, ffb, haiz... Even Bollocks went overseas for an exchange programme.
That left me perpetually alone in hall for my third year.
Being the sore loser as I had always been, I was the only one left in the gang who could not take that 0-5 lying down. I swore vengence, and took up captaincy of the hall team to wrong our mistakes made in the previous year and exact revenge on the demons who delivered each of those 5 goals into Tweety's net. Nevermind those who had departed and deserted. I could carry on this quest however lofty and hefty it might be. Ahlangod never swallows shame and bear the humiliation for life. The day of justice will prevail.
From my position today, it was a miracle that I had spent many solitary hours at the hardcourt in the evening after my lessons perfecting my basics. I was just a crazy football fiend passing balls to an invisible friend which was the wall, dribbling the ball past basketball players and invisible opponents, and aiming my freekicks at the basket ball post as if I was David Beckham lining up the most important freekick for England. I felt quite lonely during my third year, and football was the only friend which I found solace in. Almost everyday was spent thinking about my touches, tactics, positioning, tracking opponents, fanciful tricks by Ronaldinho, fitness, juggling, anything amazing to do with a ball. One thing the ball had taught me,
Never give up trying. Miracles happen because man did not stop trying.
I couldn't believe it the first time I managed to transfer the ball from my left ankle to my right ankle without letting the ball touch the floor, or when I managed to balance the ball on my right lace for more that I thought was possible. Those sessions alone in the hardcourt paid their dividends. I finally tamed to ball. It went and did whatever I wanted it to. The ball had changed from an adversary to a friend. A soul mate which listened to me and my feet. I had developed a fetish for the ball. (omfg)
Fortunately, those hard work paid off during IHG. Due to my stubborn, autocratic, and uncompromising leadership, we managed to beat KE7 3-0 and lost to EH 0-7 during the groups stages. We qualified for the semi-final nonetheless, and beat TH the defending champions 1-0!!! The win was a fluke. A fortuitous early goal followed by 60 minutes of non-stop camping. Although we eventually lost to SH 0-2 in the final, we were considered over achievers by plaudits and pundits alike in hall. Our place among the legends of RH of our era were cemented. Never before had a minnow hall like ours had the audacity and courage to upset the goliaths in the IHG scene. We had set the precedence.
We had buried the ghosts of the previous year.
That win also brought me instant celebrity status in hall. Suddenly total strangers in hall would smile at me or give me a "good job" encouragement as I went to the comm hall for my meals. As I struggled to cope with the newly found fame and status as the football maestro in hall, all of which I did not expect and deserve because I knew I was not a footballer of a high calibre.
All I wanted to do was to right the wrongs of the previous year.
Fortunately God had listened to my prayers and answered them in spectacular fashion. All that I had prayed for was given. I rest my case. It was time to move out of hall into another phase of my NUS life. To ease myself into my final year and devote fully into my failing studies and imminent final year project (FYP).
But that victory had won more things than celebration. It won me more friends than I had ever imagined. Ok maybe winning friends was not a very appropriate term to use. The victory made me realise I wasn't alone in hall. Many peers belonging to the same batch as me in hall stood up and recognised my achievements. Some of them were even in positions of authority. In fact, they had formed the bulk of the JCRC, the highest executive student body in hall.
They had given me an award during dinner and dance as a form of recognition, full points for soccer as a hall activity for my contributions as captain (which would be immaterial since I had no intention of staying for my fourth year), and most importantly of all, they put me on the master's list without my knowledge and consent. (The master's list was the holy grail in hall appeals for staying back. It represented the residents whom the Hall Master would personally like to keep in hall for the coming academic year. Its authority would be unchallenged by OSA, the Office of Student Affairs, a perennial nemesis to us) .
Unfortunately, I was not the least bit interested in the material gains like awards or points. I was grateful to them for approaching me to join their tables during tea and dinner, and including me in their circle of friends. I had also managed to break into Tweety's circle of friends in hall. It was no doubt due to the much interaction and consultation with him as he was my vice-captain. A choice made out of total rationality because he was the only player in our hall to be in the NUS soccer team. He must had more contacts and experience than me. The only thing I had in excess than him was the anger and determination to succeed. To him football was just a game. To me then it wasn't just a simple game.
It was war.
It was aptly epitomised in our winning eleven clashes. The confrontations of the giants. No blood would be left unspilled. Winner takes all. Loser treats supper. Simple as that. No room for weaklings.
The football fiend who trained and practiced his skills in solitary in the evenings had not gone unnoticed.
He was only unmentioned.
It was friends who convinced me to accept their gesture of goodwill as mentioned previously concerning the Master's List. A late bloomer in hall, I was prepared to put my FYP ON THE LINE for one good year of stay in hall at long last. I had envisaged my final year in hall to be surrounded in the company of friends and football. Only this time,
I was terribly right!
Even Bollocks and ffb had returned to hall. My batch having finally became the final years, had formed a solid solidarity and was determined to encourage friends from our batch to return and enjoy one last year of the Raffles Experience. That meant even more of my old friends had returned!
Everything went right for me during my final year. Friends were there, company was never found wanting during tea and dinner, supper with Bollocks and Tweety were in abundance, Dota sessions with Onn Chai and his gang of pro gamers were distracting me from my FYP...
I even had lunch with 3 girls during dinner on a Sunday evening! That was quite a feat considering I had consumed my rations either alone or with guys throughout my previous 3 years in hall. And on a Sunday evenings when people were scarcely around, finding people, let alone girls, for dinner was an exceptional achievement! Moreover, as I continue to gloat in my moment of glory, the 3 girls were all pretty girls widely vouched for in hall. Adele, Charmaine, and Wen Hsin. All exotic beauties in their own right. heh. Could you imagine the smug on my face then?
Fortunes during IHG were even better. Poetic justice prevailed everywhere. We banished all demons once and for all during that season. Whichever teams that trashed us in the past were returned the favour by us. We beat KE7 and our old demons KR by 2-1 in the group stages to emerge as group winners in style. In the following semi-finals, EH which gave us 7 without reply the previous season, were beaten after a tightly contested game that went down to the wire.
That game saw us playing in the prominent NUS field #1 which by its location guaranteed spectators in the weekday evening. Our hall had the advantage of proximity than EH to the field, and that explained why for the first time in many years, we had more supporters than them in ANY game. Maybe also because the hall had higher expectations of our team due to the giant slaying acts of previous season, and hoped to see that again against our arch rivals. Our soccer team was one of the few "can make it" teams in RH which could really make the elite halls a good run for their money. To cut short on my bull shit,
My hall turned out in force.
The game went to penalties as the score remained at 0-0 after 120 minutes of football. We eventually won the shoot out 4-3, as the last 3 penalties did not find the goal. To add insult to injury, their captain and star performer of the game "tiang-ed" the goal post for the last penalty and lost the game for them.
That could only meant exhilaration for us.
The moment of brotherhood when all of us wrapped arms across each other's shoulders during the shootout and running towards Tweety after the last kick was unforgettable. Bring in the pitch invasion by the most hardcore of our fans (namely the final years) and the climax was completed. It was a day of triumph for all who believed in RH, for all of my friends who supporters who had faith in us.
But still that wasn't the final. We had lost to the best team in the tournament, TH in the final. 0-4. More than made up for the freak 1-0 loss to us last season. So much for poetic justice.
The ball still eluded me like a satellite. It did not pay to daydream about the past in the middle of the court. I had played close to 2 hours of football without a goal to my name, and my friends were shouting for the next goal to be the last before dinner. I had a penchant for scoring so many "dinner" goals in the hardcourt down the years. Coupled with the fact that I haven't scored yet today, I was determined to make the last goal MINE.
In what seemed to be a hopeless attempt at getting the ball from the silky feet of Kumar, he lost control of the ball in a rare occasion. His attempt to drag the ball back was too forceful, and the ball ended up half a stride out of his control. I sprinted forward to occupy that space and left him behind me. Running directly down the line, I pushed the ball past the last defender and turned 90 degrees just as I hit the goal line. With no one able to catch up with me within 2 seconds, I floated parallel to the goal line and calmly slotted the ball into the empty goal after passing the near post.
GOAL!!!
Finally we could all take a shower and go for dinner. We had decided to go to Clementi for a bite. As I looked out from the bus window for one last look at the hardcourt,
I knew I would miss this place for a long time to come.
夜已深，我仿佛听到风雨声
一阵阵，洒落在路中寂寞人
在风里，在雨里，走过的路程
已经随着岁月的声音消失在黄昏
情不归，一个人空巷独徘徊
找不回，往日的情谊藏心底
有你的，有我的，成长的痕迹
这里埋藏过去的感情，教人心碎
生命就像流水，像轻烟慢慢延续
我的记忆却渐渐蒙上尘埃
回来的路上，不断回头望
在那依然成长的地方，以往成长的地方
从今以后，风雨有谁相伴？
从今以后，风雨有我相伴
Another reason that formed part of the inpetus for me to return was that today could well be the last time I am able to play with my friends back there because their exams start next week. It would not be polite to disturb them then, and after their exams most of them would move out of hall for their annual long vacation. To make it simple,
If I don't go back today, I would never have the chance to.
Prior to the football, I had tea with them in comm hall. It was nice catching up with them and learning of they plan to do after graduation. It was still early after tea, only 1700. People would only trickle down to the hardcourt after 1730. Without standing on ceremony, I accepted Tweety's invitation to his room for a bout of winning eleven 9.
Today's game did not bear the usual rivalry back in the old days. My Ronaldinho and Ronaldo did not look menacing, considering they used to glide through Tweety's defence effortlessly. On the other hand, his Veron just passed through balls after through balls for Adriano to pounce on. Final score? 0-2. Possession? 30%-70%.
I was raped today.
To add insult to injury, Tweety wasn't paying particular attention to the game. In fact, we weren't concentrating on the game. If a third party were to observe how we were playing, we would appear as two idiots staring blankly at the screen punching buttons on the controllers.
Our mind was not on the game but more of chatting.
Tweety had the intention of joining the education service as a PE teacher, and took the opportunity to consult me on several matters. Things like payscale, prospects, etc. I could only give him whatever I knew because I have not joined the service as well. All my knowledge was from friends who are currently teaching now. PE teaching should be the ideal career for him as it complements his lifestyle and character. He is a good sportsman, and the restraints of a 9 to 5 job would definitely take its toll on his sports (He plays football for a club). Moreover he is not materialistic or ambitious, so teaching PE would be the perfect choice :)
Finally it was time to play football at the hardcourt. I must admit my touches had long deserted me. I was outclassed almost everywhere on the court! People were playing pinball all around me and I was reduced to chasing shadows. Even Tweety was reluctant to pass me the ball because I couldn't get it accurately to wherever I wanted it to go.
My incompetence aside, I had many fond memories of this hardcourt. It was where I received my "divine" skills, and made my hall friends. I had even literally broke an arm and a leg while playing in it.
What happened?
Many thanks to Michael Bollocks for giving me a challenge in the rush of blood to send me landing on one arm, in the process dislocating my elbow 1 month before my 3rd sem exams. The dislocated toe was self inflicted. I slided at Tommy the sexy footballer during inter block games in a failed attempt to impress girls. Those were the days of being young and impetuous. I couldn't even remember now when was the last time I slided at someone.
It was also the place which bred our fury against the star-studded final year team when I was a freshie. The final years then would invade the hardcourt in their gang and shove others aside. Diplomatically they would rotate the games among the teams, applying the "one goal rule". However, they were so good that my year one team would concede a goal in less than a minute and the other final year teams would play close to 20 minutes before conceding. Meritocracy abused?
Things got better during our second year. After the final years had graduated, they left behind a void in the pool which me and my gang of friends quickly filled. I was fortunate to find myself in that window when the first team needed new players. Had I joined NUS a year earlier, it would be difficult to break into the first team. A year earlier would mean spending two years on the bench while watching the final years play. A year later would deprive me of developing the fury and impetus to become a footballing god after all the abuses from the final years. Life at the hardcourt was the best during my second year, because that was when me and my gang of friends from my batch would swarm the hardcourt everyday. Some of them would even get there BEFORE me. FFB (fuck fuck boy) from china would always wear his egoistic basketball jersey which carried his name and start ramming the ball towards the wall straight after tea. It was him which I took after his passion for improving his technique.
Our fortunes in the inter hall games (IHG) that year were not very good. We drew with SH 1-1 before a trashing by KR 0-5 in the group stages. Needless to say, we got knocked out in the group stages and that disappointing defeat was the reason why many of gang left hall after that year. Disillusioned and jaded. Snow, Dong, Xiao Ming, ffb, haiz... Even Bollocks went overseas for an exchange programme.
That left me perpetually alone in hall for my third year.
Being the sore loser as I had always been, I was the only one left in the gang who could not take that 0-5 lying down. I swore vengence, and took up captaincy of the hall team to wrong our mistakes made in the previous year and exact revenge on the demons who delivered each of those 5 goals into Tweety's net. Nevermind those who had departed and deserted. I could carry on this quest however lofty and hefty it might be. Ahlangod never swallows shame and bear the humiliation for life. The day of justice will prevail.
From my position today, it was a miracle that I had spent many solitary hours at the hardcourt in the evening after my lessons perfecting my basics. I was just a crazy football fiend passing balls to an invisible friend which was the wall, dribbling the ball past basketball players and invisible opponents, and aiming my freekicks at the basket ball post as if I was David Beckham lining up the most important freekick for England. I felt quite lonely during my third year, and football was the only friend which I found solace in. Almost everyday was spent thinking about my touches, tactics, positioning, tracking opponents, fanciful tricks by Ronaldinho, fitness, juggling, anything amazing to do with a ball. One thing the ball had taught me,
Never give up trying. Miracles happen because man did not stop trying.
I couldn't believe it the first time I managed to transfer the ball from my left ankle to my right ankle without letting the ball touch the floor, or when I managed to balance the ball on my right lace for more that I thought was possible. Those sessions alone in the hardcourt paid their dividends. I finally tamed to ball. It went and did whatever I wanted it to. The ball had changed from an adversary to a friend. A soul mate which listened to me and my feet. I had developed a fetish for the ball. (omfg)
Fortunately, those hard work paid off during IHG. Due to my stubborn, autocratic, and uncompromising leadership, we managed to beat KE7 3-0 and lost to EH 0-7 during the groups stages. We qualified for the semi-final nonetheless, and beat TH the defending champions 1-0!!! The win was a fluke. A fortuitous early goal followed by 60 minutes of non-stop camping. Although we eventually lost to SH 0-2 in the final, we were considered over achievers by plaudits and pundits alike in hall. Our place among the legends of RH of our era were cemented. Never before had a minnow hall like ours had the audacity and courage to upset the goliaths in the IHG scene. We had set the precedence.
We had buried the ghosts of the previous year.
That win also brought me instant celebrity status in hall. Suddenly total strangers in hall would smile at me or give me a "good job" encouragement as I went to the comm hall for my meals. As I struggled to cope with the newly found fame and status as the football maestro in hall, all of which I did not expect and deserve because I knew I was not a footballer of a high calibre.
All I wanted to do was to right the wrongs of the previous year.
Fortunately God had listened to my prayers and answered them in spectacular fashion. All that I had prayed for was given. I rest my case. It was time to move out of hall into another phase of my NUS life. To ease myself into my final year and devote fully into my failing studies and imminent final year project (FYP).
But that victory had won more things than celebration. It won me more friends than I had ever imagined. Ok maybe winning friends was not a very appropriate term to use. The victory made me realise I wasn't alone in hall. Many peers belonging to the same batch as me in hall stood up and recognised my achievements. Some of them were even in positions of authority. In fact, they had formed the bulk of the JCRC, the highest executive student body in hall.
They had given me an award during dinner and dance as a form of recognition, full points for soccer as a hall activity for my contributions as captain (which would be immaterial since I had no intention of staying for my fourth year), and most importantly of all, they put me on the master's list without my knowledge and consent. (The master's list was the holy grail in hall appeals for staying back. It represented the residents whom the Hall Master would personally like to keep in hall for the coming academic year. Its authority would be unchallenged by OSA, the Office of Student Affairs, a perennial nemesis to us) .
Unfortunately, I was not the least bit interested in the material gains like awards or points. I was grateful to them for approaching me to join their tables during tea and dinner, and including me in their circle of friends. I had also managed to break into Tweety's circle of friends in hall. It was no doubt due to the much interaction and consultation with him as he was my vice-captain. A choice made out of total rationality because he was the only player in our hall to be in the NUS soccer team. He must had more contacts and experience than me. The only thing I had in excess than him was the anger and determination to succeed. To him football was just a game. To me then it wasn't just a simple game.
It was war.
It was aptly epitomised in our winning eleven clashes. The confrontations of the giants. No blood would be left unspilled. Winner takes all. Loser treats supper. Simple as that. No room for weaklings.
The football fiend who trained and practiced his skills in solitary in the evenings had not gone unnoticed.
He was only unmentioned.
It was friends who convinced me to accept their gesture of goodwill as mentioned previously concerning the Master's List. A late bloomer in hall, I was prepared to put my FYP ON THE LINE for one good year of stay in hall at long last. I had envisaged my final year in hall to be surrounded in the company of friends and football. Only this time,
I was terribly right!
Even Bollocks and ffb had returned to hall. My batch having finally became the final years, had formed a solid solidarity and was determined to encourage friends from our batch to return and enjoy one last year of the Raffles Experience. That meant even more of my old friends had returned!
Everything went right for me during my final year. Friends were there, company was never found wanting during tea and dinner, supper with Bollocks and Tweety were in abundance, Dota sessions with Onn Chai and his gang of pro gamers were distracting me from my FYP...
I even had lunch with 3 girls during dinner on a Sunday evening! That was quite a feat considering I had consumed my rations either alone or with guys throughout my previous 3 years in hall. And on a Sunday evenings when people were scarcely around, finding people, let alone girls, for dinner was an exceptional achievement! Moreover, as I continue to gloat in my moment of glory, the 3 girls were all pretty girls widely vouched for in hall. Adele, Charmaine, and Wen Hsin. All exotic beauties in their own right. heh. Could you imagine the smug on my face then?
Fortunes during IHG were even better. Poetic justice prevailed everywhere. We banished all demons once and for all during that season. Whichever teams that trashed us in the past were returned the favour by us. We beat KE7 and our old demons KR by 2-1 in the group stages to emerge as group winners in style. In the following semi-finals, EH which gave us 7 without reply the previous season, were beaten after a tightly contested game that went down to the wire.
That game saw us playing in the prominent NUS field #1 which by its location guaranteed spectators in the weekday evening. Our hall had the advantage of proximity than EH to the field, and that explained why for the first time in many years, we had more supporters than them in ANY game. Maybe also because the hall had higher expectations of our team due to the giant slaying acts of previous season, and hoped to see that again against our arch rivals. Our soccer team was one of the few "can make it" teams in RH which could really make the elite halls a good run for their money. To cut short on my bull shit,
My hall turned out in force.
The game went to penalties as the score remained at 0-0 after 120 minutes of football. We eventually won the shoot out 4-3, as the last 3 penalties did not find the goal. To add insult to injury, their captain and star performer of the game "tiang-ed" the goal post for the last penalty and lost the game for them.
That could only meant exhilaration for us.
The moment of brotherhood when all of us wrapped arms across each other's shoulders during the shootout and running towards Tweety after the last kick was unforgettable. Bring in the pitch invasion by the most hardcore of our fans (namely the final years) and the climax was completed. It was a day of triumph for all who believed in RH, for all of my friends who supporters who had faith in us.
But still that wasn't the final. We had lost to the best team in the tournament, TH in the final. 0-4. More than made up for the freak 1-0 loss to us last season. So much for poetic justice.
The ball still eluded me like a satellite. It did not pay to daydream about the past in the middle of the court. I had played close to 2 hours of football without a goal to my name, and my friends were shouting for the next goal to be the last before dinner. I had a penchant for scoring so many "dinner" goals in the hardcourt down the years. Coupled with the fact that I haven't scored yet today, I was determined to make the last goal MINE.
In what seemed to be a hopeless attempt at getting the ball from the silky feet of Kumar, he lost control of the ball in a rare occasion. His attempt to drag the ball back was too forceful, and the ball ended up half a stride out of his control. I sprinted forward to occupy that space and left him behind me. Running directly down the line, I pushed the ball past the last defender and turned 90 degrees just as I hit the goal line. With no one able to catch up with me within 2 seconds, I floated parallel to the goal line and calmly slotted the ball into the empty goal after passing the near post.
GOAL!!!
Finally we could all take a shower and go for dinner. We had decided to go to Clementi for a bite. As I looked out from the bus window for one last look at the hardcourt,
I knew I would miss this place for a long time to come.
夜已深，我仿佛听到风雨声
一阵阵，洒落在路中寂寞人
在风里，在雨里，走过的路程
已经随着岁月的声音消失在黄昏
情不归，一个人空巷独徘徊
找不回，往日的情谊藏心底
有你的，有我的，成长的痕迹
这里埋藏过去的感情，教人心碎
生命就像流水，像轻烟慢慢延续
我的记忆却渐渐蒙上尘埃
回来的路上，不断回头望
在那依然成长的地方，以往成长的地方
从今以后，风雨有谁相伴？
从今以后，风雨有我相伴
Saturday, April 08, 2006
A Boring Saturday
Today is one of those boring saturday afternoons. Nothing to do, no one to go out with, wasting a precious weekend aimlessly. To be honest I am partly responsible for not arranging any activities today. If I had known that boredom would be so deranging, I should had asked someone out.
Easier said than done though.
Friends in NUS? They are busy preparing for their coming exams. Friends around my age? Either busy with work or busy with their own lives. For those who had began dating, saturdays are almost exclusively reserved for their other ones. Even if I was lucky enough to find someone available for a meal or drink, I would struggle to maintain a conversation. I had been away from the mainstream life that my peers are living in for too long. Their experiences and concerns are very incoherent from mine.
Examples?
While they are concerned with insurances, sound investment plans, blue chip shares, unit trusts, MONEY, finding a good date, relationship problems, COE prices, grievances at work... I find myself living in a totally different planet from them. What I am concerned with, were things that used to bother them 3 to 4 years ago.
The usual army grievances.
The present isn't like the past, when I used to meet my friends during the weekends and start complaining/comparing about our contrasting army life styles. All my friends had gone past that phase. It would not be appropriate to go out with them and start army talk, because that would make a 25 year old sound like an 18 year old. But I couldn't fit into most of their conversations either, because I have no knowledge of what they are experiencing out there. Solution?
Don't talk loh.
At least now I am wiser. I only meet people for activities that do not require talking. (E.g. soccer.) And I leave almost immediately after the game. Partly because it's 1900 on a sunday night and I need to book in, and partly because of the what I said earlier: Lack of a conversation topic.
For female friends, the situation is as discouraging. All of them had started working already. I tried going with a couple of them since I got back to the army. Asking them how are they doing would be a fatal mistake. They would either start talking about their grievances at work, or events that are happening outside of Bedok Camp. None of which I would be able to follow up with a proper conversation without genuinely looking lost. Worst still, some of the more sensitive ones would try to condescend and talk about army stuff.
Which I am so ashamed of myself when that happens.
Going out with women also hurts me in another way. My wallet. No matter how much they are complaining about how low their pay are, they are still earning 4 figure salaries at the very least. I only take home $586.++ per month.
So where does the pain come from?
Most of my dates with women would be meeting up for meals. Being the stubborn chauvinist, my pride would not allow the girl to pay if she did not drop any hints to go dutch. The damage is not very much if I do that once in a month. But if I were to go out for meals with ladies on a consistent basis on every weekend, the chances of me going broke would be higher. And these dates are purely meeting up sessions, with no hope of further progress :)
Conclusion?
Going out with women is not cheap. So only go out with the one that you are really interested in.
Yah lah, I am very kiam siap. I deserved to be left on the shelf.
So here I am, blogging my life away on a Saturday night. To add to the list of no life activities which I had been engaging since 160505 last year, I trained a maplestory warrior and played dota. Today "Horlisong" is a proud warrior in Aquila, and was recently promoted to level 39 an hour ago! Anybody who is holding on to spare warrior equipment for males please let me know.
Let's all help to make "Horlisong" the number 1 Crusader in south east asia!
Staying at home also helped me realise that I had neglected someone for a long time unconsciously. She had been doing all the cleaning, washing, and cooking for everyone all these years. No, my family had never been rich enough to engage a Maria to help wth the chores.
That woman is my mother.
Today for once, I had been "stalking" my mum for the entire day. Okay, stalking sounded so obscene. What I really meant was I kept track of what she would do in a typical Saturday.
First, she started the day by going to the market to do her groceries and getting breakfast for us. When she called back (and woke me up in the process) to ask for help to bring back stuff, I couldn't believe I grumbled before dragging myself down stairs. Well, that's me, a lazy and useless piece of shit.
For the rest of the morning, she was busy doing laundary accumulated over the week. (That included my clothes I brought back from army.) Told her so many times not to bend over to reach for things on the floor but to squat, but she just wouldn't listen.
In the afternoon she received a call from the wife of that good-for-nothing uncle of mine. My uncle had drafted a will to transfer his share of his flat to his mistress. Why couldn't he leave everyone in peace even after his death? Must he wreak more havoc from hell? I really pity his wife, for she had to suffer a life time of grievances. That phone call certainly got mum's mood to a low, but no tears this time :)
Mum slept lazily on the sofa for the afternoon.
She did some family accounts after she woke up, then switched on the tv to watch some Jacky Wu variety show. The only thing I could do for her today was to get her dinner. After dinner, she went to her room and read some papers, followed by more tv. Channel 8 showed some Chow Yuen Fatt movie today, and she was engrossed in it.
She was fast asleep an hour ago.
If I wasn't at home, no one else in the family would have known that her Saturdays were spent like that. Dad would be out driving his cab as usual, my bro would be involved in his CCA, and my sister busy with work and dating.
I would not know how she thinks of such a lifestyle, but I honestly felt that it is a lonely life. My mother had been quietly supporting us in the background while all of us enjoyed lives like never before. And since I find going with girls a hassle at least while I am still in the army, I had decided to keep her company on whatever weekends I have left unburnt.
Not that this would be a decision which would please her. So often than not, she had publicly voiced her displeasure at me for camping in front of the computer the whole day during weekends.
"Nian qing ren ying gai chu qu huo dong yi xia!"
Which means young people should get involved in more social activities (like dating). Every lunar new year, she would pepper me with questions about my disgusting singlehood and implore me to get married soon so that she could carry her grandchild/(grandson).
Mum, I haven't found the girl of my dreams yet! Could you just let me keep you company in the weekends while I can before I move to NIE this July?
I had realised, that I had been taking after that useless uncle of mine over the past few years. There is no point in wasting time on women who would not even have me in their thoughts, let alone hope that they would show me some concern. It is time I made good of my resolution.
To be a good man and not a nice man.
I am not aversed to women, but I should have known better who are the ones that deserve attention.
The only woman in this world that I owed most and am obliged to take care of for the rest of my life,
Is my mother.
Easier said than done though.
Friends in NUS? They are busy preparing for their coming exams. Friends around my age? Either busy with work or busy with their own lives. For those who had began dating, saturdays are almost exclusively reserved for their other ones. Even if I was lucky enough to find someone available for a meal or drink, I would struggle to maintain a conversation. I had been away from the mainstream life that my peers are living in for too long. Their experiences and concerns are very incoherent from mine.
Examples?
While they are concerned with insurances, sound investment plans, blue chip shares, unit trusts, MONEY, finding a good date, relationship problems, COE prices, grievances at work... I find myself living in a totally different planet from them. What I am concerned with, were things that used to bother them 3 to 4 years ago.
The usual army grievances.
The present isn't like the past, when I used to meet my friends during the weekends and start complaining/comparing about our contrasting army life styles. All my friends had gone past that phase. It would not be appropriate to go out with them and start army talk, because that would make a 25 year old sound like an 18 year old. But I couldn't fit into most of their conversations either, because I have no knowledge of what they are experiencing out there. Solution?
Don't talk loh.
At least now I am wiser. I only meet people for activities that do not require talking. (E.g. soccer.) And I leave almost immediately after the game. Partly because it's 1900 on a sunday night and I need to book in, and partly because of the what I said earlier: Lack of a conversation topic.
For female friends, the situation is as discouraging. All of them had started working already. I tried going with a couple of them since I got back to the army. Asking them how are they doing would be a fatal mistake. They would either start talking about their grievances at work, or events that are happening outside of Bedok Camp. None of which I would be able to follow up with a proper conversation without genuinely looking lost. Worst still, some of the more sensitive ones would try to condescend and talk about army stuff.
Which I am so ashamed of myself when that happens.
Going out with women also hurts me in another way. My wallet. No matter how much they are complaining about how low their pay are, they are still earning 4 figure salaries at the very least. I only take home $586.++ per month.
So where does the pain come from?
Most of my dates with women would be meeting up for meals. Being the stubborn chauvinist, my pride would not allow the girl to pay if she did not drop any hints to go dutch. The damage is not very much if I do that once in a month. But if I were to go out for meals with ladies on a consistent basis on every weekend, the chances of me going broke would be higher. And these dates are purely meeting up sessions, with no hope of further progress :)
Conclusion?
Going out with women is not cheap. So only go out with the one that you are really interested in.
Yah lah, I am very kiam siap. I deserved to be left on the shelf.
So here I am, blogging my life away on a Saturday night. To add to the list of no life activities which I had been engaging since 160505 last year, I trained a maplestory warrior and played dota. Today "Horlisong" is a proud warrior in Aquila, and was recently promoted to level 39 an hour ago! Anybody who is holding on to spare warrior equipment for males please let me know.
Let's all help to make "Horlisong" the number 1 Crusader in south east asia!
Staying at home also helped me realise that I had neglected someone for a long time unconsciously. She had been doing all the cleaning, washing, and cooking for everyone all these years. No, my family had never been rich enough to engage a Maria to help wth the chores.
That woman is my mother.
Today for once, I had been "stalking" my mum for the entire day. Okay, stalking sounded so obscene. What I really meant was I kept track of what she would do in a typical Saturday.
First, she started the day by going to the market to do her groceries and getting breakfast for us. When she called back (and woke me up in the process) to ask for help to bring back stuff, I couldn't believe I grumbled before dragging myself down stairs. Well, that's me, a lazy and useless piece of shit.
For the rest of the morning, she was busy doing laundary accumulated over the week. (That included my clothes I brought back from army.) Told her so many times not to bend over to reach for things on the floor but to squat, but she just wouldn't listen.
In the afternoon she received a call from the wife of that good-for-nothing uncle of mine. My uncle had drafted a will to transfer his share of his flat to his mistress. Why couldn't he leave everyone in peace even after his death? Must he wreak more havoc from hell? I really pity his wife, for she had to suffer a life time of grievances. That phone call certainly got mum's mood to a low, but no tears this time :)
Mum slept lazily on the sofa for the afternoon.
She did some family accounts after she woke up, then switched on the tv to watch some Jacky Wu variety show. The only thing I could do for her today was to get her dinner. After dinner, she went to her room and read some papers, followed by more tv. Channel 8 showed some Chow Yuen Fatt movie today, and she was engrossed in it.
She was fast asleep an hour ago.
If I wasn't at home, no one else in the family would have known that her Saturdays were spent like that. Dad would be out driving his cab as usual, my bro would be involved in his CCA, and my sister busy with work and dating.
I would not know how she thinks of such a lifestyle, but I honestly felt that it is a lonely life. My mother had been quietly supporting us in the background while all of us enjoyed lives like never before. And since I find going with girls a hassle at least while I am still in the army, I had decided to keep her company on whatever weekends I have left unburnt.
Not that this would be a decision which would please her. So often than not, she had publicly voiced her displeasure at me for camping in front of the computer the whole day during weekends.
"Nian qing ren ying gai chu qu huo dong yi xia!"
Which means young people should get involved in more social activities (like dating). Every lunar new year, she would pepper me with questions about my disgusting singlehood and implore me to get married soon so that she could carry her grandchild/(grandson).
Mum, I haven't found the girl of my dreams yet! Could you just let me keep you company in the weekends while I can before I move to NIE this July?
I had realised, that I had been taking after that useless uncle of mine over the past few years. There is no point in wasting time on women who would not even have me in their thoughts, let alone hope that they would show me some concern. It is time I made good of my resolution.
To be a good man and not a nice man.
I am not aversed to women, but I should have known better who are the ones that deserve attention.
The only woman in this world that I owed most and am obliged to take care of for the rest of my life,
Is my mother.
Monday, April 03, 2006
Heaven's Coins
I am sure many of us had heard of the tales by the famous story teller Hans Christian Anderson. Among his more popular works would be "Little Mermaid" and "The Ugly Duckling". However there are still many of his works that lay in obscurity today.
I would like to share one of his lesser known stories to whoever is reading this blog. It is called "Die Sterntaler". Although I do not know what these two words mean, fortunately the story was popularised by a japanese drama broadcasted 11 years ago. In the process, a more familiar name was conceived.
Heaven's Coins.
A long long time ago, there was a poor little girl who was walking in the snow with a piece of bread. She wanted to visit her mother's grave at the hill top because that day was her death anniversary. As she walked into the forest, she saw a little boy in hunger. Out of sympathy, she gave him her only piece of bread. She smiled to herself as the boy tucked into the bread gratefully.
As the little girl walked on, she saw another girl in ragged clothes shivering in the cold. Our little girl gave her coat away.
Eventually, she gave away all her possessions one by one to the needy people she saw along the way. Her hat, her money, her shoes, and even her underwear were used to give comfort to others in need. In the end, she was freezing in the cold with nothing on. Still, she did not let the cold hinder her stride and continued to trudge in the snow.
But she was no immortal. The weather began to take its toil. Her steps grew smaller and smaller, until she could not even stand up at all. Yet she did not give up and continued to her destination by crawling.
After much pain, she finally got to the top of the hill in the middle of the night. She dragged herself to the grave and knelt down. Clutching a fistful of snow that laid on the tombstone, she cupped her palms together and said a silent prayer to God for her mother's well-being in heaven.
The cold finally took its toil on her weak body. She collapsed and fell to her back after the prayer. Just before she closed her eyes, she saw the brilliant night sky filled with dazzling stars for the first time. She smiled and tried to grab a handful of them with her fist.
Suddenly, the stars shone brighter and brighter, until they became so bright that the little girl had to cover her eyes with her palms. When the glare faded away, she removed her palms and saw hundreds and thousands of sparkling coins fall from the sky. The silence of the night was broken by the gentle tinkling sounds of the falling coins. The little girl was exhilarated, but she closed her eyes finally.
Fortunately, she did not die. In fact, she lived happily ever after with the gift bestowed from the heavens.
I must apologise that my version of "Die Sterntaler" is not very accurate. (But the gist is there lah.) What I consider to be more important are the lessons we can learn from it. Characteristic of Anderson's tales, there is a morale to "Die Sterntaler" too. What would your own interpretation be?
To me, I feel that kindness would beget kindness. God will not forget the good things that we had done, even if we thought that God had forgotten all of us by not rewarding us. Why should we expect rewards when we do good? Wouldn't that taint the deeds with greed?
True good goes in only one direction. To give and not to take.
Easier said than done, as all of us would agree. "Die Sterntaler" did have a reward to the little girl in the end, but to many of us the rewards of doing good in this world are just too intangible to be felt. Nonetheless I still hope that this story would admonish everyone against doing evil. Because while doing good may not earn you rewards, doing evil will certainly get you punished. Oops. I think I sound too menacing here. :)
Whenever you have the chance to gaze upon a star filled sky, touch your conscience and whisper your prayers to the wind. Who knows?
Stars may fall upon you.
I would like to share one of his lesser known stories to whoever is reading this blog. It is called "Die Sterntaler". Although I do not know what these two words mean, fortunately the story was popularised by a japanese drama broadcasted 11 years ago. In the process, a more familiar name was conceived.
Heaven's Coins.
A long long time ago, there was a poor little girl who was walking in the snow with a piece of bread. She wanted to visit her mother's grave at the hill top because that day was her death anniversary. As she walked into the forest, she saw a little boy in hunger. Out of sympathy, she gave him her only piece of bread. She smiled to herself as the boy tucked into the bread gratefully.
As the little girl walked on, she saw another girl in ragged clothes shivering in the cold. Our little girl gave her coat away.
Eventually, she gave away all her possessions one by one to the needy people she saw along the way. Her hat, her money, her shoes, and even her underwear were used to give comfort to others in need. In the end, she was freezing in the cold with nothing on. Still, she did not let the cold hinder her stride and continued to trudge in the snow.
But she was no immortal. The weather began to take its toil. Her steps grew smaller and smaller, until she could not even stand up at all. Yet she did not give up and continued to her destination by crawling.
After much pain, she finally got to the top of the hill in the middle of the night. She dragged herself to the grave and knelt down. Clutching a fistful of snow that laid on the tombstone, she cupped her palms together and said a silent prayer to God for her mother's well-being in heaven.
The cold finally took its toil on her weak body. She collapsed and fell to her back after the prayer. Just before she closed her eyes, she saw the brilliant night sky filled with dazzling stars for the first time. She smiled and tried to grab a handful of them with her fist.
Suddenly, the stars shone brighter and brighter, until they became so bright that the little girl had to cover her eyes with her palms. When the glare faded away, she removed her palms and saw hundreds and thousands of sparkling coins fall from the sky. The silence of the night was broken by the gentle tinkling sounds of the falling coins. The little girl was exhilarated, but she closed her eyes finally.
Fortunately, she did not die. In fact, she lived happily ever after with the gift bestowed from the heavens.
I must apologise that my version of "Die Sterntaler" is not very accurate. (But the gist is there lah.) What I consider to be more important are the lessons we can learn from it. Characteristic of Anderson's tales, there is a morale to "Die Sterntaler" too. What would your own interpretation be?
To me, I feel that kindness would beget kindness. God will not forget the good things that we had done, even if we thought that God had forgotten all of us by not rewarding us. Why should we expect rewards when we do good? Wouldn't that taint the deeds with greed?
True good goes in only one direction. To give and not to take.
Easier said than done, as all of us would agree. "Die Sterntaler" did have a reward to the little girl in the end, but to many of us the rewards of doing good in this world are just too intangible to be felt. Nonetheless I still hope that this story would admonish everyone against doing evil. Because while doing good may not earn you rewards, doing evil will certainly get you punished. Oops. I think I sound too menacing here. :)
Whenever you have the chance to gaze upon a star filled sky, touch your conscience and whisper your prayers to the wind. Who knows?
Stars may fall upon you.
Friday, March 31, 2006
Route Marches
We had a route march yesterday. Perhaps it should not be called a march because it was only 6 km. A route walk would be a more appropriate term. Nonetheless it was good exercise on a Thursday morning.
On the other hand, I am not implying that I am fit or we should have walked longer, but that walk brought about recollections of past marches which had helped mould me into the person that I am today.
Did that 32 km tour de Tekong trip on a Friday night strike a chord in all of you? How about the 40-42 km "military back packing" trip around the mountains of ROC? Those events certainly brought back fond memories when all of us are in positions of comfort now.
But not when we were going through it.
Route marches are, among all the trainings in the army, the most synonymous with life.
We start with huge loads on our backs. Despite the weight, we had a quiet confidence that we could last the distance. The load did not appear to be very heavy because our bodies were still fresh. Optimism was the strongest at the beginning.
The magic only unfolds itself when fatigue sets in.
As we accumulate distance under our feet, our bodies would inevitably get tired. This would cause the mind to tell the body to slow down or even stop. In life, this is the same as feeling jaded after doing something or living a particular kind of life for a long time. People always need fresh challenges, and rest when they are tired. But more often than not, we knew we could not stop and rest whenever we liked. Everyone was still pushing forward together. There was still a long way to go before the end point. Stopping now would not reduce the distance. It would only result in the man in front of you pulling further and further away.
So we trudged on, despite feeling the load get heavier with each passing minute. Synonymously, the magnitudes of problems in life are self-determined. Something is considered a burden because we feel that it is. Life feels like it is getting tougher because we feel that it is.
When in actual fact, there was no change in the weight of our load and the magnitude of our problems.
So where had the optimism in the beginning gone to? The optimism that made the weight seem manageable in the first place. Had it been eroded by fatigue? Had jadedness took its place instead?
When too much fatigue sets in, there would come to a point in the march when every step will be painful. Every moment would be filled with thoughts of emancipating ourselves. Contrary to our desires, no one gave up, because common sense will tell us that running away is never the right solution to any problem.
Unfortunately, there are some idiosyncratic people among us in society who chose to end their lives when their problems seemed too much to handle. It is a pity that they are wasting the greatest gift that God had given to all of us. If only they had given themselves a chance to listen to what God had to say...
Who said life is all about downs without ups?
No matter what kind of mortal agony we were in during the march, a rest point would eventually come. There, we relieve our burdens for a moment, take a sip of water, and have a little snack. No one can push themselves all the way in life. We need to take breathers along the way to recharge ourselves.
When we finally set off again, the rejuvenation of the rest will make the load feel more bearable. Our bodies will slowly adapt to the load, and eventually react to it the way that we should all along:
The load had always been that heavy, and not heavier.
The moment we developed this strength, the rest of the march was a breeze. Ultimately, all of us would arrive at the end point irregardless of how fast we walked or how long we had rested. The important thing was that would we be satisfied with our efforts? Did we walk the distance the way we had wanted to? Relating it back to life, had we lived the life we had wanted without regrets?
Apart from ourselves, no one else will know the answer for sure. No matter what it may be, the steams of sweat that dissipated from our backs do not lie.
That our seasoned shoulders are able to bear with pain and responsibilities.
And these shoulders do not belong to boys.
But to men.
On the other hand, I am not implying that I am fit or we should have walked longer, but that walk brought about recollections of past marches which had helped mould me into the person that I am today.
Did that 32 km tour de Tekong trip on a Friday night strike a chord in all of you? How about the 40-42 km "military back packing" trip around the mountains of ROC? Those events certainly brought back fond memories when all of us are in positions of comfort now.
But not when we were going through it.
Route marches are, among all the trainings in the army, the most synonymous with life.
We start with huge loads on our backs. Despite the weight, we had a quiet confidence that we could last the distance. The load did not appear to be very heavy because our bodies were still fresh. Optimism was the strongest at the beginning.
The magic only unfolds itself when fatigue sets in.
As we accumulate distance under our feet, our bodies would inevitably get tired. This would cause the mind to tell the body to slow down or even stop. In life, this is the same as feeling jaded after doing something or living a particular kind of life for a long time. People always need fresh challenges, and rest when they are tired. But more often than not, we knew we could not stop and rest whenever we liked. Everyone was still pushing forward together. There was still a long way to go before the end point. Stopping now would not reduce the distance. It would only result in the man in front of you pulling further and further away.
So we trudged on, despite feeling the load get heavier with each passing minute. Synonymously, the magnitudes of problems in life are self-determined. Something is considered a burden because we feel that it is. Life feels like it is getting tougher because we feel that it is.
When in actual fact, there was no change in the weight of our load and the magnitude of our problems.
So where had the optimism in the beginning gone to? The optimism that made the weight seem manageable in the first place. Had it been eroded by fatigue? Had jadedness took its place instead?
When too much fatigue sets in, there would come to a point in the march when every step will be painful. Every moment would be filled with thoughts of emancipating ourselves. Contrary to our desires, no one gave up, because common sense will tell us that running away is never the right solution to any problem.
Unfortunately, there are some idiosyncratic people among us in society who chose to end their lives when their problems seemed too much to handle. It is a pity that they are wasting the greatest gift that God had given to all of us. If only they had given themselves a chance to listen to what God had to say...
Who said life is all about downs without ups?
No matter what kind of mortal agony we were in during the march, a rest point would eventually come. There, we relieve our burdens for a moment, take a sip of water, and have a little snack. No one can push themselves all the way in life. We need to take breathers along the way to recharge ourselves.
When we finally set off again, the rejuvenation of the rest will make the load feel more bearable. Our bodies will slowly adapt to the load, and eventually react to it the way that we should all along:
The load had always been that heavy, and not heavier.
The moment we developed this strength, the rest of the march was a breeze. Ultimately, all of us would arrive at the end point irregardless of how fast we walked or how long we had rested. The important thing was that would we be satisfied with our efforts? Did we walk the distance the way we had wanted to? Relating it back to life, had we lived the life we had wanted without regrets?
Apart from ourselves, no one else will know the answer for sure. No matter what it may be, the steams of sweat that dissipated from our backs do not lie.
That our seasoned shoulders are able to bear with pain and responsibilities.
And these shoulders do not belong to boys.
But to men.
Sunday, March 26, 2006
Good Day!
Just wanted to record down a couple of tricks I learnt today.
1. When the opponent has a freekick, hold the line 20m-30m away. Let your team mates know. When the kickers steps up to kick the ball, quickly drop a few paces back and then run forward again. Chances are high that the ball will come to you nicely for a headed clearance.
2. When the opponent has a freekick (or corner kick) close to the box, the ball would most probably not sail over the line. Instead, get one player to mark their striker and I try to get in front of him. The kicker would most probably aim the ball towards (and in front of) him for a header.
3. If in doubt, do not commit. Limpeh is the fucking LAST MAN. Just run around, contain, and wait for reinforcements.
We beat a good team today.
Sibe song!
1. When the opponent has a freekick, hold the line 20m-30m away. Let your team mates know. When the kickers steps up to kick the ball, quickly drop a few paces back and then run forward again. Chances are high that the ball will come to you nicely for a headed clearance.
2. When the opponent has a freekick (or corner kick) close to the box, the ball would most probably not sail over the line. Instead, get one player to mark their striker and I try to get in front of him. The kicker would most probably aim the ball towards (and in front of) him for a header.
3. If in doubt, do not commit. Limpeh is the fucking LAST MAN. Just run around, contain, and wait for reinforcements.
We beat a good team today.
Sibe song!
Friday, March 24, 2006
Revelations of Time
Today I was able to reach home in the early afternoon because of the half day block leave for the commanders and me. As I came out of the lift, I was quite surprised to see a man outside my flat. My family seldom have visitors, so this man at our doorstep in the middle of a friday afternoon had succeeded in attracting whatever attention I had.
He did not look familiar among the visitors who had ever visited us in my memory. He looked very haggard, and his movements were slow and weak. In fact, he could not even stand up straight and his right arm was clutching his back trying to support himself upright. Was he a neighbour who needed help? When he turned around, I got the shock of my life.
That man is my father.
My initial reaction was horror. Horror that why I couldn't recognise him, horror that why had he aged so fast, horror that he was in pain right outside our home. I helped him in swiftly, and he rested on the couch with a cushion supporting his back.
"My back is very painful. Don't know why."
I offered him to take him to the nearby SGH, but he insisted that we wait for mum to return since she was already on her way back. He took a nap in his room in the midst of waiting.
And that left me pondering alone in the living room over the reasons that triggered my horror just now.
Why was I not able recognise at first sight a person whom I had lived under the same roof for close to 20 years? His avuncular figure clearly contrasted against the impression of a young and healthy middle aged man which was etched into my memory throughout my toddler and teenage years. How time flies, and it catches up with all of us within a blink of an eye.
It seemed that my carefree varsity days surrounded by lots of friends were just yesterday. Delusions aside, those days were close to an year ago. What is left now is a helpless solitude which unfortunately, is the stage of my life after school. Not all is lost though, as reflections beckon within me more frequently now. Things that I had not thought about before in the midst of all the fun suddenly had made themselves known to my conscience.
Which was what brought me back to the scenario this afternoon. What had I done over the years such that I could not even recognise my own dad? It would be inconscionable of me if I do not know the answer to the above question. Actually, the answer had always been at the back of my mind.
I had been away from home for too long.
4 years in school, 2 years in the army, and that would mean I had been away for 6 years! The naive and aspiring adolescent who left is now a jaded and seasoned old (in the heart) man. The changes in my family that had happened over the past few years had been immense. My parents look more haggard now. My sister looked from being too young to be married to being overdued to be married. My brother? From a cute toddler to a disgustingly spoilt teenager. One who does not appreciate the true value of money, who does not admit his mistakes sincerely, who always think he is victimised by people who meant well for him.
Staying away for so long had its perks as well. Amongst the gifts that I had picked up away from home, there is one that stood out most.
I had lived with the rich and the poor, the privileged and the not, the spoilt and the cultured, the self-centred and the magnanimous, the ambitious and the down-to-earth. And I had learnt to handle all of them. That, in my opinion, is the greatest gift acquired within me.
After having seen the real face of the world out there, I really appreciate the sacrifices that my parents had done for us. Out there, everyone fends for themselves. Receiving kindness is something that should not be expected. The realisation of the nature of this dog eat dog world is the reason why the sorry figure of my dad pains me even more.
Fortunately, a visit to the doctor revealed that nothing is wrong with his back. It was just a simple muscle strain caused by improper sleeping posture. To a man whose livelihood involves sitting down for most of the day behind the wheels, this news couldn't had come better.
I would not know what the future holds, especially so when I am up against an inexorable and formidable opponent called time.
However I do hope one day, that there will be someone who does not want to listen to my gentle lies.
But only want to stay by my side.
He did not look familiar among the visitors who had ever visited us in my memory. He looked very haggard, and his movements were slow and weak. In fact, he could not even stand up straight and his right arm was clutching his back trying to support himself upright. Was he a neighbour who needed help? When he turned around, I got the shock of my life.
That man is my father.
My initial reaction was horror. Horror that why I couldn't recognise him, horror that why had he aged so fast, horror that he was in pain right outside our home. I helped him in swiftly, and he rested on the couch with a cushion supporting his back.
"My back is very painful. Don't know why."
I offered him to take him to the nearby SGH, but he insisted that we wait for mum to return since she was already on her way back. He took a nap in his room in the midst of waiting.
And that left me pondering alone in the living room over the reasons that triggered my horror just now.
Why was I not able recognise at first sight a person whom I had lived under the same roof for close to 20 years? His avuncular figure clearly contrasted against the impression of a young and healthy middle aged man which was etched into my memory throughout my toddler and teenage years. How time flies, and it catches up with all of us within a blink of an eye.
It seemed that my carefree varsity days surrounded by lots of friends were just yesterday. Delusions aside, those days were close to an year ago. What is left now is a helpless solitude which unfortunately, is the stage of my life after school. Not all is lost though, as reflections beckon within me more frequently now. Things that I had not thought about before in the midst of all the fun suddenly had made themselves known to my conscience.
Which was what brought me back to the scenario this afternoon. What had I done over the years such that I could not even recognise my own dad? It would be inconscionable of me if I do not know the answer to the above question. Actually, the answer had always been at the back of my mind.
I had been away from home for too long.
4 years in school, 2 years in the army, and that would mean I had been away for 6 years! The naive and aspiring adolescent who left is now a jaded and seasoned old (in the heart) man. The changes in my family that had happened over the past few years had been immense. My parents look more haggard now. My sister looked from being too young to be married to being overdued to be married. My brother? From a cute toddler to a disgustingly spoilt teenager. One who does not appreciate the true value of money, who does not admit his mistakes sincerely, who always think he is victimised by people who meant well for him.
Staying away for so long had its perks as well. Amongst the gifts that I had picked up away from home, there is one that stood out most.
I had lived with the rich and the poor, the privileged and the not, the spoilt and the cultured, the self-centred and the magnanimous, the ambitious and the down-to-earth. And I had learnt to handle all of them. That, in my opinion, is the greatest gift acquired within me.
After having seen the real face of the world out there, I really appreciate the sacrifices that my parents had done for us. Out there, everyone fends for themselves. Receiving kindness is something that should not be expected. The realisation of the nature of this dog eat dog world is the reason why the sorry figure of my dad pains me even more.
Fortunately, a visit to the doctor revealed that nothing is wrong with his back. It was just a simple muscle strain caused by improper sleeping posture. To a man whose livelihood involves sitting down for most of the day behind the wheels, this news couldn't had come better.
I would not know what the future holds, especially so when I am up against an inexorable and formidable opponent called time.
However I do hope one day, that there will be someone who does not want to listen to my gentle lies.
But only want to stay by my side.
Sunday, March 19, 2006
Frustration!
I am so frustrated with myself today! Nothing seemed to go right on the pitch in the game. Positioning was go-yak, clearances reached as far as my foot, passes went nearer to an opponent rather than a team mate...
There was an incident whereby I had the ball under control and dissolved the danger near our box. But I was over adventurous and instead of stopping the ball and passing it to another player, I tried to dribble past one guy and pushed the ball instead. In the end I lost the ball to him and he played it into the box. Someone eventually scored but fortunately it was ruled offside. But still to make a mistake that concedes a goal directly... It certainly spoils the whole day.
I promise myself I will play a lot better in the next game!
There was an incident whereby I had the ball under control and dissolved the danger near our box. But I was over adventurous and instead of stopping the ball and passing it to another player, I tried to dribble past one guy and pushed the ball instead. In the end I lost the ball to him and he played it into the box. Someone eventually scored but fortunately it was ruled offside. But still to make a mistake that concedes a goal directly... It certainly spoils the whole day.
I promise myself I will play a lot better in the next game!
Saturday, March 18, 2006
Nostalgia Revisited
I had mentioned in my previous blog on Thursday night that I would be going to my hostel's annual Dinner and Dance yesterday. It wouldn't be difficult to deduce that I was up early to blog about that if you had paid attention to the date and time this blog was posted.
Too used to waking up early everyday at 0600. That explained why I woke up at 0700 despite sleeping at 0200 the previous night.
Anyway back to the main topic, last night wa s pretty good. Met up with a lot of people whom I seldom have the chance to do so otherwise. There were even a few whom I had not met since May last year. Unfortunately, I was probably the least formally dressed person around that night. Blame it on the lazy bug that had just bitten me. Fortunately, the saving grace was that I am handsome enough to radiate charm despite being in a humble outfit. :p Don't believe? Check out the images below!
(Tweety and me. He was the old friend who invited me back.)
(Mavis and me. Mavis is Tweety's girlfriend. Very pretty right?)
(This is Ali Baba and Me. Kenny is a crappy fellow who never fails to attract girls. Shit him.)
By the way, Kenny and Tweety are the only veterans who had braved ALL my inter hall soccer games with me. (Did I miss out on the Vietnamese?) Nonetheless, they are long time friends who had shared the highs and lows with me on the pitch. That gloomy afternoon at Ubi field after the loss to KR 5-1, that evening that never stopped raining when we lost to EH 7-0, that stunning 1-0 win over TH that sent the whole hall flying over the moon!
And that remained the only time our hall had beaten TH at soccer in 5 years!
Apart from my soccer friends I took pictures with some cute girls too. haha. (Better keep them to myself before people start pestering me to give them their contacts.)
(This is my hall master. Very honoured to take a picture with such a distinguished and talented person. e.g. He can play a lot of instruments and speak more than 10 languages.)
As the night went by with performances and video tributes to the final year students, it somehow triggered my own set of reminisicing too. Everyone's memories of RH were closely tied, regardless of which year we graduated and left. How time flies! It seemed like only yesterday when I was at my final year DnD. Now I am back witnessing my hall juniors become final years. Perhaps that was why I appeared very "stoned" for most part of the night. Seeing everything around me brought a lot of things back. Would it be too much of me if I had thoughts to live my life vicariously in them just for that night? haha.
And Weixiang had to break the surreal with a low class request to borrow my camera to take a picture with a girl that he doesn't even know.
There were funny perfomances too! Tweety's rendering of Collin Raye's "Love Me" was hopelessly out-of-pitched. A classic example of a great ballad getting ravaged... Anyway there was also the BackTweetz Boys' performance on "I want it that way", of course with a twist to the content. Would 5 grown up men on stage in their towels and shower caps be suggestive and provocative enough? So what on earth was "their way"? Well, what way could it be when someone shook his mike at his groin in front of 100+ people and "accidentally" dropped his tower?
Well, that was what all DnDs were made up of. A tinge of sadness amidst the laughter, and hope for the future amidst the sadness. I am sure they will know how I felt last night this time next year, when they return more mellowed and seasoned.
So to all my friends whom I had not met or may not meet for a long time, between now and then till I see you again,
I'll be loving you,
Love me.
Too used to waking up early everyday at 0600. That explained why I woke up at 0700 despite sleeping at 0200 the previous night.
Anyway back to the main topic, last night wa s pretty good. Met up with a lot of people whom I seldom have the chance to do so otherwise. There were even a few whom I had not met since May last year. Unfortunately, I was probably the least formally dressed person around that night. Blame it on the lazy bug that had just bitten me. Fortunately, the saving grace was that I am handsome enough to radiate charm despite being in a humble outfit. :p Don't believe? Check out the images below!
(Tweety and me. He was the old friend who invited me back.)
(Mavis and me. Mavis is Tweety's girlfriend. Very pretty right?)
(This is Ali Baba and Me. Kenny is a crappy fellow who never fails to attract girls. Shit him.)
By the way, Kenny and Tweety are the only veterans who had braved ALL my inter hall soccer games with me. (Did I miss out on the Vietnamese?) Nonetheless, they are long time friends who had shared the highs and lows with me on the pitch. That gloomy afternoon at Ubi field after the loss to KR 5-1, that evening that never stopped raining when we lost to EH 7-0, that stunning 1-0 win over TH that sent the whole hall flying over the moon!
And that remained the only time our hall had beaten TH at soccer in 5 years!
Apart from my soccer friends I took pictures with some cute girls too. haha. (Better keep them to myself before people start pestering me to give them their contacts.)
(This is my hall master. Very honoured to take a picture with such a distinguished and talented person. e.g. He can play a lot of instruments and speak more than 10 languages.)
As the night went by with performances and video tributes to the final year students, it somehow triggered my own set of reminisicing too. Everyone's memories of RH were closely tied, regardless of which year we graduated and left. How time flies! It seemed like only yesterday when I was at my final year DnD. Now I am back witnessing my hall juniors become final years. Perhaps that was why I appeared very "stoned" for most part of the night. Seeing everything around me brought a lot of things back. Would it be too much of me if I had thoughts to live my life vicariously in them just for that night? haha.
And Weixiang had to break the surreal with a low class request to borrow my camera to take a picture with a girl that he doesn't even know.
There were funny perfomances too! Tweety's rendering of Collin Raye's "Love Me" was hopelessly out-of-pitched. A classic example of a great ballad getting ravaged... Anyway there was also the BackTweetz Boys' performance on "I want it that way", of course with a twist to the content. Would 5 grown up men on stage in their towels and shower caps be suggestive and provocative enough? So what on earth was "their way"? Well, what way could it be when someone shook his mike at his groin in front of 100+ people and "accidentally" dropped his tower?
Well, that was what all DnDs were made up of. A tinge of sadness amidst the laughter, and hope for the future amidst the sadness. I am sure they will know how I felt last night this time next year, when they return more mellowed and seasoned.
So to all my friends whom I had not met or may not meet for a long time, between now and then till I see you again,
I'll be loving you,
Love me.
Thursday, March 16, 2006
High Morale Day
From the upbeat title, it would not be difficult to guess my mood today. Yup, I cleared my first day of leave prior to my ORD. Although I only applied for a day's leave on friday (tomorrow), the feeling of walking down the long road leading out of camp on a weekday evening is something to be cherished.
Of course there are more than one reason to feel happy today :)
I am fortunate that I am free tomorrow, because I have a dinner with my hostel friends at their annual dinner and dance. I was invited back in the capacity as an alumni by my old friend. It had been a while since I last met up with them. Really looking forward to meeting them again.
While I am happily blogging online now, my mates are busy doing SK back in camp. The dreaded heritage room, cutting of wooden poles for NDP, combat shoot stores, friday guard duty... Don't we hate others for making their work ours? That 1SG Fat Ranger @)*&@)#*@. I hope my friends can ORD soon as well! I can tell anyone out there honestly, it is not the tough training that gets people down in the army, but the SKs. Tough training makes one swell with a sense of achievement after it, but SK will only result in more damaged self-esteem.
So much for living life without worth. It doesn't take much clairyovance to realise that.
Of course there are more than one reason to feel happy today :)
I am fortunate that I am free tomorrow, because I have a dinner with my hostel friends at their annual dinner and dance. I was invited back in the capacity as an alumni by my old friend. It had been a while since I last met up with them. Really looking forward to meeting them again.
While I am happily blogging online now, my mates are busy doing SK back in camp. The dreaded heritage room, cutting of wooden poles for NDP, combat shoot stores, friday guard duty... Don't we hate others for making their work ours? That 1SG Fat Ranger @)*&@)#*@. I hope my friends can ORD soon as well! I can tell anyone out there honestly, it is not the tough training that gets people down in the army, but the SKs. Tough training makes one swell with a sense of achievement after it, but SK will only result in more damaged self-esteem.
So much for living life without worth. It doesn't take much clairyovance to realise that.
Saturday, March 11, 2006
Run or Rumble?
I chanced upon a newspaper article on one of the notice boards in camp this week. It spoke of a very young Goh Chok Tong living in a less well off Singapore decades ago. (It even had a picture to show for it.) The content was the usual "how lucky we are compared to the olden days" kind of stuff. What enticed my interest, was not how gung ho our fathers were but a line in the article.
"... grit to face adversities head on and not run away at the first sight of trouble ..."
The above may have appeared too often in our lives such that it becomes a cliche, but for a moment I had a sudden realisation. Had I been consciously or subsconciously guilty of it? The more I thought about it, the more realisations about my life surfaced.
I guess taking the easy way out wasn't a difficult choice for many self-confessed rational thinking people like me. It saves trouble, hassle, and embarrassment of failure. But miracles happen only when someone does things with a conviction that even failure would not deter him. People like me can never achieve such greatness if we continue taking the easy way out.
Take for example Ronaldinho's goal against Chelsea in the 1-1 draw champions league match on 7th march 2006. When he received the ball from Eto'o in the least of spaces, lesser mortals would pass it to an available teamate. What he did was to charge straight into his opponents with his beliefs and skills, brushed past the tackles in his face, and fired a shot that no one could save.
He is not called a football great for nothing.
Yes he did have excellent techique, but without a matching mentality, those talents could never be unleashed in a competitive environment. It is his never run-away attitude that earned my admiration for him.
Although I had once shamelessly called myself Ronaldilang during my hostel days, I knew I am no where near compared to him. I always had the bad habit of taking the easy way out most of the time.
Examples?
Many. The minor ones would be like leaving a dota game after being fragged 3 times or more in a row, running a few rounds less from my self imposed target, not willing to make a firm tackle with the slightest of pain in my foot. Then there were the too easily given up attempts at pursuing girls, putting away math problems at the first sight of fear...
Relinquishing the dream of becoming a professor in mathematics.
Maybe I had made an unscalable dream. Becoming an expert in mathematics requires a lot of time, effort, patience, passion, and determination. Would formulating excuses for myself make it easier for me to give it up? Would I be contented all my life if I took the stable option of being a math teacher? I remembered a japanese drama which I watched years ago. The lead actor was a struggling mathematician, and he was questioned by the lead actress.
"Why go to Boston in the first place if you knew you would give it all up one day and return to Japan?"
What a dig at his lack of perseverance! I remembered the days when I would was totally enticed by mathematics that I could spent the whole day sitting down and thinking about problems. But I guess that interest was soon eroded by the limited time and unlimited work to do during a typical NUS semester. Excuses again? See what I mean about myself...
However, something that steered my mentality in the right direction happened recently.
Last friday was brigade games day for our unit. My company needed runners to participate in the relay which was the finale event. I was asked to run, but I declined because I had an uncomfortable strain on my right knee ligament. It would hurt even during light jogging. Something told me that it would not last a high tempo 200m race.
One day before the race day, my officer requested me to run because they were lacking runners from the troopers (or because of their inaccurate perception that I am a fast runner?). With my knee feeling slightly better, I agreed to run. (But not without certain unpleasant exchanges with my officers.)
An hour before the race, the knee cropped up its usual problems again. I had participated in the street soccer tournament before the run, so maybe that explains the pain. My team had lost the soccer game undeservedly. The opponents' goal was a lucky shot that went through everyone's tackling radius. I was quite overwhelmed with disgust over their luck. I wanted get some justice done. Overtaking people in the race later would provide the perfect opportunity. This time round, I had no thoughts of passing up the run to another person. Pain in the knee took the least priority. (If you hadn't known by now, Ah Lang is a f**king sore loser.)
Somehow that anger carried me through that 200m despite the pain which kept me whining for the past few days. We got in first eventually thanks to the other fast runners in my team. It was only after a good recollection in the tranquility at home that I realised the powerful effects of mind over body.
Miracles do happen, as long as the mind does not give up.
If I can persevere, I am sure someday I will recover passion to do my mathematics, and go all the way to court the lady of my dreams. :)
Because today, I learnt that my mind had trimphed over my inhibitions for once in an very long time.
"... grit to face adversities head on and not run away at the first sight of trouble ..."
The above may have appeared too often in our lives such that it becomes a cliche, but for a moment I had a sudden realisation. Had I been consciously or subsconciously guilty of it? The more I thought about it, the more realisations about my life surfaced.
I guess taking the easy way out wasn't a difficult choice for many self-confessed rational thinking people like me. It saves trouble, hassle, and embarrassment of failure. But miracles happen only when someone does things with a conviction that even failure would not deter him. People like me can never achieve such greatness if we continue taking the easy way out.
Take for example Ronaldinho's goal against Chelsea in the 1-1 draw champions league match on 7th march 2006. When he received the ball from Eto'o in the least of spaces, lesser mortals would pass it to an available teamate. What he did was to charge straight into his opponents with his beliefs and skills, brushed past the tackles in his face, and fired a shot that no one could save.
He is not called a football great for nothing.
Yes he did have excellent techique, but without a matching mentality, those talents could never be unleashed in a competitive environment. It is his never run-away attitude that earned my admiration for him.
Although I had once shamelessly called myself Ronaldilang during my hostel days, I knew I am no where near compared to him. I always had the bad habit of taking the easy way out most of the time.
Examples?
Many. The minor ones would be like leaving a dota game after being fragged 3 times or more in a row, running a few rounds less from my self imposed target, not willing to make a firm tackle with the slightest of pain in my foot. Then there were the too easily given up attempts at pursuing girls, putting away math problems at the first sight of fear...
Relinquishing the dream of becoming a professor in mathematics.
Maybe I had made an unscalable dream. Becoming an expert in mathematics requires a lot of time, effort, patience, passion, and determination. Would formulating excuses for myself make it easier for me to give it up? Would I be contented all my life if I took the stable option of being a math teacher? I remembered a japanese drama which I watched years ago. The lead actor was a struggling mathematician, and he was questioned by the lead actress.
"Why go to Boston in the first place if you knew you would give it all up one day and return to Japan?"
What a dig at his lack of perseverance! I remembered the days when I would was totally enticed by mathematics that I could spent the whole day sitting down and thinking about problems. But I guess that interest was soon eroded by the limited time and unlimited work to do during a typical NUS semester. Excuses again? See what I mean about myself...
However, something that steered my mentality in the right direction happened recently.
Last friday was brigade games day for our unit. My company needed runners to participate in the relay which was the finale event. I was asked to run, but I declined because I had an uncomfortable strain on my right knee ligament. It would hurt even during light jogging. Something told me that it would not last a high tempo 200m race.
One day before the race day, my officer requested me to run because they were lacking runners from the troopers (or because of their inaccurate perception that I am a fast runner?). With my knee feeling slightly better, I agreed to run. (But not without certain unpleasant exchanges with my officers.)
An hour before the race, the knee cropped up its usual problems again. I had participated in the street soccer tournament before the run, so maybe that explains the pain. My team had lost the soccer game undeservedly. The opponents' goal was a lucky shot that went through everyone's tackling radius. I was quite overwhelmed with disgust over their luck. I wanted get some justice done. Overtaking people in the race later would provide the perfect opportunity. This time round, I had no thoughts of passing up the run to another person. Pain in the knee took the least priority. (If you hadn't known by now, Ah Lang is a f**king sore loser.)
Somehow that anger carried me through that 200m despite the pain which kept me whining for the past few days. We got in first eventually thanks to the other fast runners in my team. It was only after a good recollection in the tranquility at home that I realised the powerful effects of mind over body.
Miracles do happen, as long as the mind does not give up.
If I can persevere, I am sure someday I will recover passion to do my mathematics, and go all the way to court the lady of my dreams. :)
Because today, I learnt that my mind had trimphed over my inhibitions for once in an very long time.
Sunday, March 05, 2006
Gas Chamber
Our unit went for a chemical defence package for the past two days. This package was meant to boost our sense of confidence and proficiency against chemical agents should the enemy make use of them in war.
The first half of the package were the lectures, which did nothing much to help us keep awake. :)
The next half was more interesting. We had training in our full chemical defence suits to familiarise ourselves the actual drills that needs to be done in a real attack. The instructor would shout "Gas gas gas!" Upon that command we had to don our masks in 9 seconds. Everyone looked like spacemen after wearing the masks.
We also had to decontaminate all body parts which we were going to touch with our gloves with powder. What happens if you want to take a pee outfield while in that suit? The answer is easy. "Decon dick!"
The finale of the package was a stint in a gas chamber. We split up into details of 10 before entering the chamber. Inside, we were made to do some exercises like push ups and jumping jacks. We weren't made to do a lot though, just sufficiently enough to make us catch our breaths in the full body suit.
After which we had to perform the "changing of gas canister" drill while catching our breaths. The PT done earlier was meant to enhance the difficulty of the drill which would be too easy if we were breathing normally.
The climax of the gas chamber training finally came. We had to remove our masks and say out our rank, name, and IC before making a dash for the exit. I was smart enough to take in one deep breath of clean air before removing the mask and blurting out the required information. I thought I would not be too affected by the smoke as long as I did not inhale it and choke.
I was wrong.
The moment I stepped out into the fresh air, any skin which was previously in contact with the smoke burned as if there were flames on them. My eyes teared like nobody's business, and phelgm kept on flowing out of my nostrils. It was really an uncomfortable experience. (To make it more alarming, I was only exposed to the gas for less than a minute before walking out!)
I was glad nonetheless that I had a chance to experience the effects of the CS smoke. CS smoke is a toned down version of the tear gas used by riot polices, but it was enough to cause significant discomfort in the victims. To many of us, the training we had was an introduction to chemical defence and perhaps some appreciation of the potent effects of chemical agents. Many of us had treated the day in the chamber as a day of laughing at one another in our disgraced appearances.
We were fortunate that we could treat it as a fun day.
Somehow I couldn't help but to think of the millions of people who died in similar gas chambers in the holocaust. I reembered watching a japanese drama sometime during december last year. A doctor in that show went to a POW camp in Poland for sight seeing. He stood right at the centre of a fork of a railway in the camp. The left fork leads to a terminal where the able bodied males would depart. They were sent to barracks as inmates. The right fork was meant for the rest (women, children, sick, and the disabled.)
To be sent to the gas chambers.
As aptly coined by a lady tour guide in the show, the fork was literally "the crossroad of life." If less than a minute of exposure of CS smoke could cause so much discomfort in us, I couldn't imagine how the last moments of the people in the chambers were like. To make it worse, there were women and children among them. What had they done wrong to deserve such cruelty?
I never knew that a little bit of smoke could inflict so much thinking in me. Perhaps I am just over reacting. But the smoke did trigger an indirect correlation to a great evil decades ago.
Evil is something I could never tolerate or forgive in my whole life.
I think it would be appropriate now to moderate my tone. Anyway it is fortunate that all my friends and family are happy and healthy now.
Just had lunch with a uni friend today. Listened to her problems at work again as with my previous lunches with her.
After which I went to visit my grandmother who lived a few blocks away from her. (Suddenly remembered that she had been discharged from hospital.) Grandma's fine too :)
Finally in the day I went to play football with my friends at Pasir Ris. Although we lost 2-1 but my defence had a pretty good game today. Winning should not be the most important thing in a game. Playing well, and enjoying time with your friends should be.
It is the simple things in life that keeps me happy and gives me motivation to strive harder. I am glad that my friends and family are healthy and doing fine. Yes although they may bitch a bit here and there but it only shows that they are trying to make the best out of their lives.
I hope that no evil like those that happened decades ago would ever descent upon them.
And protecting them from harm's way is what gives us pride in donning the green uniforms.
The first half of the package were the lectures, which did nothing much to help us keep awake. :)
The next half was more interesting. We had training in our full chemical defence suits to familiarise ourselves the actual drills that needs to be done in a real attack. The instructor would shout "Gas gas gas!" Upon that command we had to don our masks in 9 seconds. Everyone looked like spacemen after wearing the masks.
We also had to decontaminate all body parts which we were going to touch with our gloves with powder. What happens if you want to take a pee outfield while in that suit? The answer is easy. "Decon dick!"
The finale of the package was a stint in a gas chamber. We split up into details of 10 before entering the chamber. Inside, we were made to do some exercises like push ups and jumping jacks. We weren't made to do a lot though, just sufficiently enough to make us catch our breaths in the full body suit.
After which we had to perform the "changing of gas canister" drill while catching our breaths. The PT done earlier was meant to enhance the difficulty of the drill which would be too easy if we were breathing normally.
The climax of the gas chamber training finally came. We had to remove our masks and say out our rank, name, and IC before making a dash for the exit. I was smart enough to take in one deep breath of clean air before removing the mask and blurting out the required information. I thought I would not be too affected by the smoke as long as I did not inhale it and choke.
I was wrong.
The moment I stepped out into the fresh air, any skin which was previously in contact with the smoke burned as if there were flames on them. My eyes teared like nobody's business, and phelgm kept on flowing out of my nostrils. It was really an uncomfortable experience. (To make it more alarming, I was only exposed to the gas for less than a minute before walking out!)
I was glad nonetheless that I had a chance to experience the effects of the CS smoke. CS smoke is a toned down version of the tear gas used by riot polices, but it was enough to cause significant discomfort in the victims. To many of us, the training we had was an introduction to chemical defence and perhaps some appreciation of the potent effects of chemical agents. Many of us had treated the day in the chamber as a day of laughing at one another in our disgraced appearances.
We were fortunate that we could treat it as a fun day.
Somehow I couldn't help but to think of the millions of people who died in similar gas chambers in the holocaust. I reembered watching a japanese drama sometime during december last year. A doctor in that show went to a POW camp in Poland for sight seeing. He stood right at the centre of a fork of a railway in the camp. The left fork leads to a terminal where the able bodied males would depart. They were sent to barracks as inmates. The right fork was meant for the rest (women, children, sick, and the disabled.)
To be sent to the gas chambers.
As aptly coined by a lady tour guide in the show, the fork was literally "the crossroad of life." If less than a minute of exposure of CS smoke could cause so much discomfort in us, I couldn't imagine how the last moments of the people in the chambers were like. To make it worse, there were women and children among them. What had they done wrong to deserve such cruelty?
I never knew that a little bit of smoke could inflict so much thinking in me. Perhaps I am just over reacting. But the smoke did trigger an indirect correlation to a great evil decades ago.
Evil is something I could never tolerate or forgive in my whole life.
I think it would be appropriate now to moderate my tone. Anyway it is fortunate that all my friends and family are happy and healthy now.
Just had lunch with a uni friend today. Listened to her problems at work again as with my previous lunches with her.
After which I went to visit my grandmother who lived a few blocks away from her. (Suddenly remembered that she had been discharged from hospital.) Grandma's fine too :)
Finally in the day I went to play football with my friends at Pasir Ris. Although we lost 2-1 but my defence had a pretty good game today. Winning should not be the most important thing in a game. Playing well, and enjoying time with your friends should be.
It is the simple things in life that keeps me happy and gives me motivation to strive harder. I am glad that my friends and family are healthy and doing fine. Yes although they may bitch a bit here and there but it only shows that they are trying to make the best out of their lives.
I hope that no evil like those that happened decades ago would ever descent upon them.
And protecting them from harm's way is what gives us pride in donning the green uniforms.
Sunday, February 26, 2006
Memoirs of a Sentry
I am sure many of us had served as sentries when performing our guard duties. I was no exception, as me and my mates had stood solitarily before on a small piece of concrete which was referred to as the "island".
Several interesting observations could be made around the guard house if one had made the effort to look carefully from the island.
First up are the cats. Bedok camp had unofficially adopted a litter of stray cats in its premises for a very long time. The cats would loiter around the cookhouse during meal times, and the guardhouse during supper. They will always make the same old "meow" at you whenever you are chewing food in front of them. They are always hungry. They are always begging. It never fails to amuse me when it comes to observing their behavior. For example, a cat 20 metres away from me could sprint to my location within seconds after I had dropped a piece of bread near my feet. If you continue to feed the cat until it is full, you will be rewarded with the sight of a lifetime.
The cat will lie down flat on its back and stretch its limbs lazily in the air.
Cats are fun to play with. They are so innocent to the point of naivety. There was once when I had to do sentry duty in the wee hours of the morning.
And I was bored.
Fortunately, there was a cat sitting against the wall across the road. Without thinking, I pointed an intense beam of laser from my rifle to its belly. It did not react. I slowly guided the beam from belly to head. This time it jumped up and stared at the little red dot on the wall, as if it was something that could be eaten. The cat followed the dot wherever it went. Left, right, up, down, the cat would crawl, jump, prone, run, do whatever it took to follow the red dot. Finally I sent the beam out onto the soccer field faraway. And the cat disappeared into the dark.
I wonder what would happen if I pointed the beam onto my buddy's crotch if I had the chance in future? =)
As you slowly come to terms with my perverse, it would be appropriate of me to change to a more moderate topic.
The second observation could be considered the 8th wonder of the world. Would you believe me that there exists in this world, a door that could shape the behavior, character, appearance, and even physical deficiencies of a person just by passing through it? Yes this door exists. It is the gate people pass through when they book in and out of camp.
This gate does not slim down plump ladies, rejuvenate youth into the old, or replace an ugly face with a pretty one. However, it could transform a lethargic guy into an energiser battery the moment he walks out of it. A sloppily dressed fag would suddenly be well-groomed just before he steps in. A botak recruit walking perfectly normal outside the gate could suddenly be limping for his life after passing through it.
Such is the magic of the gate.
As for the last observation, it would have to be the sky overlooking our guard house. It is a common sight to see planes descend towards the nearby Changi International Airport. Their flapped up rudders, exposed wheels, and flashing lights all contributed to a majestic aura unique to them. Very few machines ever invented could command as much respect as the planes.
For planes epitomised man's desire to take flight.
Flight had always been associated with notions of hopes and dreams. To be able to fly would mean transcending beyond the mortal plane which the bulk of the masses reside. To be high up in the sky closer to the heavens. To be uninhibited.
To be free.
The concept of "lack of freedom" had been widely abused in the army. Almost all the NSFs I know sang to the tunes of a jailbird in unison. Even myself was guilty of complaining about the restrictions and stifling environment in camp. But after some reflecting, I realised we were only half right about the state of our freedoms. Although we had lost the right to micromanage our lives in camp, but we had not lost the right to micromanage our thoughts.
The ability to ponder aimlessly is a luxury not many could afford, especially with all the deadlines and reports pending in jobs out there in the working work. On the other hand, being in the army now is comparable to having a very long holiday. A holiday which allowed me time to digest the whirlwind of events which spun past my life for the last 5 years. A chance to reorganise my priorities, principles, past, and future. I guess there would not be many instances in my life which I could do such a massive housekeeping again. (Unless I got retrenched or retire.)
The day would come when all of us will have to pass through that gate for good. It would be no brainer to expect a tremendous sense of joy and release from many of us who had been repaying this national debt for 2 years. But regaining freedom should not be the most important concern on that day. The most important thing would be, after all the toils and snares endured for so long, did we become fillial sons to our parents, loving partners to our companions, and loyal pals to our friends?
If the answer is no, then I am afraid the past 2 years had really gone to waste. I had remembered a conversation with my grandmother 5 years ago, when I was serving NS before disruption. Life for me was tougher then, and I whined a bit in front of her. Her response was simple.
"We are grateful to you and others who are serving the nation. Without you the japanese would come again."
My initial response to my grandmother was of disbelief and shrugged it off with indifference. Why would the Japanese come and attack us again? Years later when I recollected that moment, I finally understood what she felt.
It may sound far fetched and biased towards the Japanese in contemporary times, especially when they had adopted a pacifist foreign policy after the war. But such was the impact and degree of fear they had struck into the minds of our older generation that decades after the war, memories continue to haunt the living. The least I could do was to emphatise with her insecurities.
I stopped questioning the purpose of NS since, no matter how stifling, humiliating, and punishing life was going to be. (Although I still complain a bit now and then.) =)
Life now of course would not be as tough then, considering I have less that 4 months to ORD. But that little lesson still hangs around in memory. Apart from that, what other things have I learnt in the 2 years donning the green uniform? For one I had learnt to live with the privileged and not. That would be the greatest treasure acquired within me.
Looking at the gate again, I realised I had been day dreaming for the past one hour. Time passes slowly when you are conscious, but flies when you are not. It was 0500 hrs. Time to change shift.
As I stared at the long path outside the gate which leads to the main road, one day I will walk down this path with all my barang barang slung over my shoulder. I will beam with pride that day.
Not because that day marks the end of all the physical toils.
Not because that day marks the end of all the nights spent under the moon and the stars.
And definitely not because we had become the fillial sons, loving boyfriends, or loyal pals we had hoped to be.
But simply because,
We were soldiers.
Several interesting observations could be made around the guard house if one had made the effort to look carefully from the island.
First up are the cats. Bedok camp had unofficially adopted a litter of stray cats in its premises for a very long time. The cats would loiter around the cookhouse during meal times, and the guardhouse during supper. They will always make the same old "meow" at you whenever you are chewing food in front of them. They are always hungry. They are always begging. It never fails to amuse me when it comes to observing their behavior. For example, a cat 20 metres away from me could sprint to my location within seconds after I had dropped a piece of bread near my feet. If you continue to feed the cat until it is full, you will be rewarded with the sight of a lifetime.
The cat will lie down flat on its back and stretch its limbs lazily in the air.
Cats are fun to play with. They are so innocent to the point of naivety. There was once when I had to do sentry duty in the wee hours of the morning.
And I was bored.
Fortunately, there was a cat sitting against the wall across the road. Without thinking, I pointed an intense beam of laser from my rifle to its belly. It did not react. I slowly guided the beam from belly to head. This time it jumped up and stared at the little red dot on the wall, as if it was something that could be eaten. The cat followed the dot wherever it went. Left, right, up, down, the cat would crawl, jump, prone, run, do whatever it took to follow the red dot. Finally I sent the beam out onto the soccer field faraway. And the cat disappeared into the dark.
I wonder what would happen if I pointed the beam onto my buddy's crotch if I had the chance in future? =)
As you slowly come to terms with my perverse, it would be appropriate of me to change to a more moderate topic.
The second observation could be considered the 8th wonder of the world. Would you believe me that there exists in this world, a door that could shape the behavior, character, appearance, and even physical deficiencies of a person just by passing through it? Yes this door exists. It is the gate people pass through when they book in and out of camp.
This gate does not slim down plump ladies, rejuvenate youth into the old, or replace an ugly face with a pretty one. However, it could transform a lethargic guy into an energiser battery the moment he walks out of it. A sloppily dressed fag would suddenly be well-groomed just before he steps in. A botak recruit walking perfectly normal outside the gate could suddenly be limping for his life after passing through it.
Such is the magic of the gate.
As for the last observation, it would have to be the sky overlooking our guard house. It is a common sight to see planes descend towards the nearby Changi International Airport. Their flapped up rudders, exposed wheels, and flashing lights all contributed to a majestic aura unique to them. Very few machines ever invented could command as much respect as the planes.
For planes epitomised man's desire to take flight.
Flight had always been associated with notions of hopes and dreams. To be able to fly would mean transcending beyond the mortal plane which the bulk of the masses reside. To be high up in the sky closer to the heavens. To be uninhibited.
To be free.
The concept of "lack of freedom" had been widely abused in the army. Almost all the NSFs I know sang to the tunes of a jailbird in unison. Even myself was guilty of complaining about the restrictions and stifling environment in camp. But after some reflecting, I realised we were only half right about the state of our freedoms. Although we had lost the right to micromanage our lives in camp, but we had not lost the right to micromanage our thoughts.
The ability to ponder aimlessly is a luxury not many could afford, especially with all the deadlines and reports pending in jobs out there in the working work. On the other hand, being in the army now is comparable to having a very long holiday. A holiday which allowed me time to digest the whirlwind of events which spun past my life for the last 5 years. A chance to reorganise my priorities, principles, past, and future. I guess there would not be many instances in my life which I could do such a massive housekeeping again. (Unless I got retrenched or retire.)
The day would come when all of us will have to pass through that gate for good. It would be no brainer to expect a tremendous sense of joy and release from many of us who had been repaying this national debt for 2 years. But regaining freedom should not be the most important concern on that day. The most important thing would be, after all the toils and snares endured for so long, did we become fillial sons to our parents, loving partners to our companions, and loyal pals to our friends?
If the answer is no, then I am afraid the past 2 years had really gone to waste. I had remembered a conversation with my grandmother 5 years ago, when I was serving NS before disruption. Life for me was tougher then, and I whined a bit in front of her. Her response was simple.
"We are grateful to you and others who are serving the nation. Without you the japanese would come again."
My initial response to my grandmother was of disbelief and shrugged it off with indifference. Why would the Japanese come and attack us again? Years later when I recollected that moment, I finally understood what she felt.
It may sound far fetched and biased towards the Japanese in contemporary times, especially when they had adopted a pacifist foreign policy after the war. But such was the impact and degree of fear they had struck into the minds of our older generation that decades after the war, memories continue to haunt the living. The least I could do was to emphatise with her insecurities.
I stopped questioning the purpose of NS since, no matter how stifling, humiliating, and punishing life was going to be. (Although I still complain a bit now and then.) =)
Life now of course would not be as tough then, considering I have less that 4 months to ORD. But that little lesson still hangs around in memory. Apart from that, what other things have I learnt in the 2 years donning the green uniform? For one I had learnt to live with the privileged and not. That would be the greatest treasure acquired within me.
Looking at the gate again, I realised I had been day dreaming for the past one hour. Time passes slowly when you are conscious, but flies when you are not. It was 0500 hrs. Time to change shift.
As I stared at the long path outside the gate which leads to the main road, one day I will walk down this path with all my barang barang slung over my shoulder. I will beam with pride that day.
Not because that day marks the end of all the physical toils.
Not because that day marks the end of all the nights spent under the moon and the stars.
And definitely not because we had become the fillial sons, loving boyfriends, or loyal pals we had hoped to be.
But simply because,
We were soldiers.
Saturday, February 25, 2006
Amazing Grace
I had just received news that my uncle (mum's elder brother) had passed away today. I do not feel sad, and I have no intention to attend his wake. It would be unfeeling of me to behave that way. But would you find it strange if his wife and children have no intention to visit him at his wake as well? Wait a minute, wasn't his family supposed to host the wake?
His wake is hosted by his mistress's family.
His death to me, would mean an end to half a lifetime of mistakes. It would not be polite of me to post the unpleasant events that had happened in my relatives' family online for all to know.
What concerns me, is that whether his mistakes would be forgiven by all at his grave. From the tears in my mum's eye after she learnt of the news, it was clear that she held nothing against him. Finally. What was there to hold against a dead man? Perhaps my mum received lots of kindness from my uncle when they were young? Perhaps my uncle was not such an unfeeling guy in the past? Or perhaps because he is the only kin my mum had left in the world?
Actually it's because my mum is a soft but yet kind hearted woman.
But I could not blame my cousins for their indifference towards his death. My uncle had indeed, done them injustice for decades. He shirked his responsibilites as a husband and father, squandered money and time over women other than his wife, had money for anything but his son's education... (I apologise to my cousins for disclosing a bit of the ugly side of your family affairs.) The disappointment in my mum's face after the short phone call from my cousin said it all.
They have no connections to this man.
As I pondered over the sobs from my mum's bedroom, many questions surfaced in my mind. Many of those whose answers could not be found easily. Somehow, despite being encaged in a gulf of disgust and dispair, something resonated inside me which brought about a peace of mind soon afterwards.
It's the willingness to forgive. Forgiveness had always been the greatest gift God had given to man.
"Father forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing." - Luke 23:34
After the anger had subsided, all that residued in my mind was that my uncle had lived his life in a folly. A folly that described a complete waste of life. Life which everyone of us could only have one.
What could be learnt from this unpleasant episode?
For starters, try not to make mistakes in life such that even death may not bring forgiveness from others. That would be a tragedy to all, dead or alive. Pain often does not follow the dead to their grave. It lingers among the living.
Maybe people could learn to honour their promises and commitments. It is not easy I know. (I pulled out last minute from a soccer game when I had given my promise earlier.) But being an honourable person would be a very noble thing to do. Very few are born honourable. Being honourable is a choice, a self-cultivation, a discipline, and a determination. It would however, be naive to believe that completely honourable persons exist in masses. Somehow in our lives cutting corners and breaking our words would be inevitable. But if we could hold our words to commitments that involve much at stake, then we may not have to end up compromising the feelings of many other people.
Perhaps the most important lesson of all is still to learn how to forgive. It is not easy to do as it is to say. It take a magnanimous character to do that. Jesus forgave all of us even when he was cruxified to the cross. (Heh, who are we to be compared to him?) I think I would slap someone back if he slapped me first, and not offer him my other cheek like Jesus. But still, if we could learn to forgive somewhere down the road in our lives, we would inherit freedom. When you forgive those who had sinned against you, God will forgive you too. =)
Because forgiveness frees the soul from enslavement.
I had read somewhere before about the difference between a nice man and a good man. Although they may sound similar, but they are fundamentally different. A nice man is someone who aims to please everyone, so that they would in return shower him with respect and kindness. A good man just does whatever right things that had to be done, without consideration for curry favouring. I believed my uncle had been a nice man, judging from the amount of gifts he showered upon the many strangers in his life. But was he a good man?
I did not write so much to mislead that I am a saintly person. In fact, I am a person of many flaws. Those who had read my blog on "lessons in patience" will understand that my patience is connected to a livewire. I have my fair share of people whom I had offended and disappointed. I had cowardly ran away from my problems instead of facing the music to say a sincere sorry. Worst of all, I had forgotten much of the misdeeds that I had done.
And I had mistaken myself to be a good man when I was only nice.
I certainly would not like to end up like my uncle, when forgiveness could only be sought from the deathbed, and I would like others to forgive me for whatever hurt or injustice I had done to them. But before that happens,
I must apologise to all, and learn to forgive.
His wake is hosted by his mistress's family.
His death to me, would mean an end to half a lifetime of mistakes. It would not be polite of me to post the unpleasant events that had happened in my relatives' family online for all to know.
What concerns me, is that whether his mistakes would be forgiven by all at his grave. From the tears in my mum's eye after she learnt of the news, it was clear that she held nothing against him. Finally. What was there to hold against a dead man? Perhaps my mum received lots of kindness from my uncle when they were young? Perhaps my uncle was not such an unfeeling guy in the past? Or perhaps because he is the only kin my mum had left in the world?
Actually it's because my mum is a soft but yet kind hearted woman.
But I could not blame my cousins for their indifference towards his death. My uncle had indeed, done them injustice for decades. He shirked his responsibilites as a husband and father, squandered money and time over women other than his wife, had money for anything but his son's education... (I apologise to my cousins for disclosing a bit of the ugly side of your family affairs.) The disappointment in my mum's face after the short phone call from my cousin said it all.
They have no connections to this man.
As I pondered over the sobs from my mum's bedroom, many questions surfaced in my mind. Many of those whose answers could not be found easily. Somehow, despite being encaged in a gulf of disgust and dispair, something resonated inside me which brought about a peace of mind soon afterwards.
It's the willingness to forgive. Forgiveness had always been the greatest gift God had given to man.
"Father forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing." - Luke 23:34
After the anger had subsided, all that residued in my mind was that my uncle had lived his life in a folly. A folly that described a complete waste of life. Life which everyone of us could only have one.
What could be learnt from this unpleasant episode?
For starters, try not to make mistakes in life such that even death may not bring forgiveness from others. That would be a tragedy to all, dead or alive. Pain often does not follow the dead to their grave. It lingers among the living.
Maybe people could learn to honour their promises and commitments. It is not easy I know. (I pulled out last minute from a soccer game when I had given my promise earlier.) But being an honourable person would be a very noble thing to do. Very few are born honourable. Being honourable is a choice, a self-cultivation, a discipline, and a determination. It would however, be naive to believe that completely honourable persons exist in masses. Somehow in our lives cutting corners and breaking our words would be inevitable. But if we could hold our words to commitments that involve much at stake, then we may not have to end up compromising the feelings of many other people.
Perhaps the most important lesson of all is still to learn how to forgive. It is not easy to do as it is to say. It take a magnanimous character to do that. Jesus forgave all of us even when he was cruxified to the cross. (Heh, who are we to be compared to him?) I think I would slap someone back if he slapped me first, and not offer him my other cheek like Jesus. But still, if we could learn to forgive somewhere down the road in our lives, we would inherit freedom. When you forgive those who had sinned against you, God will forgive you too. =)
Because forgiveness frees the soul from enslavement.
I had read somewhere before about the difference between a nice man and a good man. Although they may sound similar, but they are fundamentally different. A nice man is someone who aims to please everyone, so that they would in return shower him with respect and kindness. A good man just does whatever right things that had to be done, without consideration for curry favouring. I believed my uncle had been a nice man, judging from the amount of gifts he showered upon the many strangers in his life. But was he a good man?
I did not write so much to mislead that I am a saintly person. In fact, I am a person of many flaws. Those who had read my blog on "lessons in patience" will understand that my patience is connected to a livewire. I have my fair share of people whom I had offended and disappointed. I had cowardly ran away from my problems instead of facing the music to say a sincere sorry. Worst of all, I had forgotten much of the misdeeds that I had done.
And I had mistaken myself to be a good man when I was only nice.
I certainly would not like to end up like my uncle, when forgiveness could only be sought from the deathbed, and I would like others to forgive me for whatever hurt or injustice I had done to them. But before that happens,
I must apologise to all, and learn to forgive.
Sunday, February 19, 2006
Lessons in Patience.
I have deep admirations for people who have lots of patience.
Because I am one whose patience is found wanting by the yards.
There was chinese saying, "Bai Ren Cheng Jin." Which literally meant patience would eventually lead to gold. How true that saying was!
I remember several awkward and near fatal incidences in my life which resulted when my patience deserted me.
Those that left the deepest impressions on me were the instances when I was driving in a hurry. I almost knocked down pedestrians or collided with other vehicles in those near misses. Maybe I should record down the top 2 incidences in this blog to serve as a reminder for myself.
2. Almost caused an accident at a major cross junction.
I was as usual in a rush that day. Was supposed to made a U-turn from Sungei Road to Rochor Canal road to pick up a friend at Sim Lim Square taxi stand.
Because I am one whose patience is found wanting by the yards.
There was chinese saying, "Bai Ren Cheng Jin." Which literally meant patience would eventually lead to gold. How true that saying was!
I remember several awkward and near fatal incidences in my life which resulted when my patience deserted me.
Those that left the deepest impressions on me were the instances when I was driving in a hurry. I almost knocked down pedestrians or collided with other vehicles in those near misses. Maybe I should record down the top 2 incidences in this blog to serve as a reminder for myself.
2. Almost caused an accident at a major cross junction.
I was as usual in a rush that day. Was supposed to made a U-turn from Sungei Road to Rochor Canal road to pick up a friend at Sim Lim Square taxi stand.
The star in the diagram was the major cross junction. Oblivious to the U-turn filter before the junction, I actually turned right into Rochor Canal road at the junction! The crux of the problem lies in the fact that I was not travelling in the right most lane, but on the second lane from the right. So you could imagine the shock the driver on my right had when I suddenly swerved into his path and did a classic initial D turn. (Which either left him mesmerised or haunted for the rest of his night).
1. This incident occured at a T-junction somewhere in Toa Payoh. I was very late for a soccer game. Usually at a controlled traffic junction, if a driver wants to turn left, he must look out for the any pedestrians crossing in front of him BEFORE turning. Especially those that are crossing from his blind spot to the other side of the road. That day I forgot to check for pesdestrians on my blind spot and turned straight away. Almost knocked down an old lady. Even until today the guilt still lingers in me whenever I see any old lady in my rear mirror.
Somehow I think life is inexplicable at times. For all my reckless driving, I got off with just close shaves. But the one and only traffic accident I got involved in was a result of others' mistakes. And I was not driving like a bull that day. In fact, it was my careful driving that minimised the damage for all 3 cars! i.e. I did not tailgate and braked early to minimise the damage upon collision. Yet the fucker before me still claimed damages against me. Shall not dwell into that. It never fails to dampen my day whenever I rummage through the writs and claims.
On a less lethal note, my lack of patience had also caused several moments of awkwardness. There was an instance when I was meeting a friend for a movie. Due to some unknown circumstances to me then, she changed the meeting venue and time at the eleventh hour. Moreover I couldn't hear her clearly over the phone because the signal was intermittent. We did tie down to meet at a bus stop over SMS though, but to my horror there were just so many bus-stops in that area when I finally arrived there! Can you imagine how many bus stops there were around tekka market???
With no hope of catching the movie on time, fustration of looking for the exact venue, low batt on my handphone, my friend nowhere to be in sight, my patience effervescenced faster than the speed of light.
You could imagine what the rest of the night turned out. Fortunately the only saving grace was that I did not hurl abuses at her. In fact, I said nothing from the moment I finally met her until after the show. It was just silence all the way.
I have always held by a principle whenever I am severely pissed off. Don't say a word when you are not in the best of mood, because words hurt most then, and words are like water thrown out onto the asphalt.
They can't be taken back.
So I may live to regret what I had said out of a fit of anger when I had finally cooled down. Isn't it an irony, that I can control myself when I had lost my patience but I could not control myself not losing it in the first place?
That had always been my achilles heel for 2.5 decades.
Even until today, I am very thankful that I did not hurl anything at her that day even though she must had sensed my extremely foul mood through my body language. I would hate myself if I had said something that would hurt her that day. I had found out later from her that she was late because she was held up at work. How to fault her for that? Moreover she was willing to travel all the way down from tampines to town and catch a movie with a hot headed idiot despite being tired. It does not take an idiot to figure out how low class and ungentlemanly it would be to shout at a girl. (Actually I don't shout at guys too. I just point middle finger or fight it out with them). But being ungentlemanly would not be the main reason of my self-reprimanding.
But more because that friend of mine is a pleasant lady with immense patience.
It never fails to intrigue me how she acquires her patience. Is it inherent or cultivated? She never flares up, never raises her voice, only that she might sound defensive at times. It is always fascinating to observe her way of looking at things. The way which I hope to have one day. =)
Ok ok before everyone here gets mislead into thinking that I am terribly in love, let me clarify myself. It is just a boyhood fascination about the characters of people who have lots of patience. I have such fascinations on guys as well! Argh! I think I am weaving a web of controversies around myself. "Yue miao yue hei" in chinese.
But I am certainly attracted to ladies who are patient, and would not mind marrying one for a wife =)
Guess this had been a pretty long (winded) blog. To end, let me share 3 points with everyone.
1. If in doubt, never lose your patience.
2. If patience was lost, never say things that you might regret. Best is to keep silent. People who do not flare up even if they are angry are cultivated people.
3. There must always be a reasonable explanation behind things that don't appeal to you. Don't be so self-centred. If in doubt please read "The Kingdom of Self" by Earl Jabay. Take my above case as an example. Can you be angry at someone who was late for a date because of work?
Perhaps whatever I had said today will help all of us improve as individuals.
Saturday, February 18, 2006
A Day of Many Firsts.
For those of you who are observant enough, this blog was posted not very long after I posted the previous one about the budget. Please do not misunderstand me as a pathetic no life SAF personnel blogging alone on a lonely saturday afternoon.
Actually I had planned to go for a jog (like that also got life meh?) later in the day at around 1730 hrs, after a good 3 days of *rest* from my MC. (Rest = 3 days of swallowing and spitting blood from my wisdom tooth wound). But alas! The sky was overcasted with ominous looking clouds.
So I am confined to my computer again.
I think I digressed too much. I haven't mentioned so far a single thing about the firsts which I had achieved today.
1. Starting with the most trivial, I managed to obtain an aegis and divine rapier in a Dota game today. Chao owning! All the enemy heros died like wimps under my mightly slashes! Muahahahaha. So childish... haha. For those who could not appreciate what is an aegis and divine rapier, they are the holy grail of items in dota. What do you think of a weapon that gives +250 damage and saves you from dying 3 times? Nothing comes close to them. Period.
2. I made my first online transaction today with my debit card! After a long time of reservations about the security of purchases made online, I finally made up my mind to buy two movie tickets to Memoirs of Geisha from the GV website. Reasoning : If so many people had done it before without complains, I guess it should be pretty safe for a noob like me to try right? Somemore if I do not buy them early online then I might run the risk of ending up with front row seats if I bought them late. So just heck care and buy lah! Be a man! Decisive! Just like the army posters, "If I didn't want to explore my limits, I would have ended up in the office."
3. I finally managed to squeeze a fishball into my mouth after so many days!
My mouth couldn't really open to its usual maximum size for the past few days due to the swollen cheek. Although I could squeeze an entire fishball in today, that does not mean I could chew it up lah, cos I could only use my left set of teeth until the wound fully recovers. Therefore, I had to take the ball out after putting it in. (Putting it in was meant to test my jaws, not to eat it).
The rain still showers the land savagely. Looks like my plans to relieve myself of the arrhythmia caused by the past few days' lack of exercise will be foiled. But it's ok! Today rain means tomorrow won't rain so tomorrow's soccer game will be played in good weather! haha!
Soccer is forever more important than running. (That's why I'm still a lousy player).
Actually I had planned to go for a jog (like that also got life meh?) later in the day at around 1730 hrs, after a good 3 days of *rest* from my MC. (Rest = 3 days of swallowing and spitting blood from my wisdom tooth wound). But alas! The sky was overcasted with ominous looking clouds.
So I am confined to my computer again.
I think I digressed too much. I haven't mentioned so far a single thing about the firsts which I had achieved today.
1. Starting with the most trivial, I managed to obtain an aegis and divine rapier in a Dota game today. Chao owning! All the enemy heros died like wimps under my mightly slashes! Muahahahaha. So childish... haha. For those who could not appreciate what is an aegis and divine rapier, they are the holy grail of items in dota. What do you think of a weapon that gives +250 damage and saves you from dying 3 times? Nothing comes close to them. Period.
2. I made my first online transaction today with my debit card! After a long time of reservations about the security of purchases made online, I finally made up my mind to buy two movie tickets to Memoirs of Geisha from the GV website. Reasoning : If so many people had done it before without complains, I guess it should be pretty safe for a noob like me to try right? Somemore if I do not buy them early online then I might run the risk of ending up with front row seats if I bought them late. So just heck care and buy lah! Be a man! Decisive! Just like the army posters, "If I didn't want to explore my limits, I would have ended up in the office."
3. I finally managed to squeeze a fishball into my mouth after so many days!
My mouth couldn't really open to its usual maximum size for the past few days due to the swollen cheek. Although I could squeeze an entire fishball in today, that does not mean I could chew it up lah, cos I could only use my left set of teeth until the wound fully recovers. Therefore, I had to take the ball out after putting it in. (Putting it in was meant to test my jaws, not to eat it).
The rain still showers the land savagely. Looks like my plans to relieve myself of the arrhythmia caused by the past few days' lack of exercise will be foiled. But it's ok! Today rain means tomorrow won't rain so tomorrow's soccer game will be played in good weather! haha!
Soccer is forever more important than running. (That's why I'm still a lousy player).
Generous Budget?
Just read about the recent national budget unveiled by our government. Honestly I felt it was a payout with more heart compared to recent years, especially with the focus on the older workers. Examples included the topping up of the Eldercare Fund and Medifund by S$100m each, and top ups for CPF Special, Retirement and Medisave accounts for those aged 50 years old and above.
Why am I so concerned with the benefits catered to the older workers when I am a young man at 25?
For my parents of course! They are an honest couple who slogged their lives in the lower rug of the civil service, subjected to the harsh winds of economic restructuring and market forces. That little bit of payout would serve as an overdued recognition their contributions.
I would also hope to see our government giving more help to our senior citizens in the future no matter which party wins the upcoming GE. (Bullshitting right, of course PAP will win by a landslide again...) But getting our foot to the ground, our population is indeed ageing consciously or subconsciously. Our not so proud fertility rate per woman of 1.24 is only better than South Korea's 1.22. Which means we will see more grey hair hanging around Orchard road when my generation becomes 40 years old!
Then how? Encourage people to be more amorous??? Make out like rabbits?
I'm no policy maker so I would not know what is the best solution to the problem. Of course the standard solutions like reducing costs, etc... had been announced by Ah Loong last year during his rally speech (don't send this blog to ISD or I'll be in jail for defamation). Glad that he gave pragmatic solutions and highlighted the problem in time. Although the perks would not result in an immediate boom of babies like the post war period, but I sincerely hope to see more young people around in Singapore over the years when I grow older. heh.
Now why am I talking like Chua Mui Hoong today?
Actually everything boils down to having more young people to support the economy so that the older workers do not have to work to help sustain the economy so that they could work for leisure and not for survival. Phew! What a long mouthful. I very cheong hei (long breath in cantonese) right?
Then people like my parents and also the older ones who had seen the war days could really enjoy their twilight years in Singapore. They had helped build our country to what it is today, times when most young people are glued to computer screens playing dota and maplestory (like what my sickening bro is doing now and refusing me my turn at dota). Wonder what kids do 40 to 50 years ago? I had been to the town of Rockhampton recently. (Sorry Aussies, I really regard it as a town rather than a city as you guys would say). That was a nice place! Very serene, clean air, beautiful natural scenery, comfortable pace of life, tasty beef... I guess all that explained why people are friendlier. What a good place for retirees to settle down!
It would be audacious even to hope that Singapore would somehow transform into such a place for our senior citizens in the future. But still, with all the recent incentives about boosting birth rates, handouts, and help given to older workers, I hope our country would evolve into a place that our senior citizens would feel proud and appreciated enough to live the last of their lives.
Because this is the place they helped to build.
Why am I so concerned with the benefits catered to the older workers when I am a young man at 25?
For my parents of course! They are an honest couple who slogged their lives in the lower rug of the civil service, subjected to the harsh winds of economic restructuring and market forces. That little bit of payout would serve as an overdued recognition their contributions.
I would also hope to see our government giving more help to our senior citizens in the future no matter which party wins the upcoming GE. (Bullshitting right, of course PAP will win by a landslide again...) But getting our foot to the ground, our population is indeed ageing consciously or subconsciously. Our not so proud fertility rate per woman of 1.24 is only better than South Korea's 1.22. Which means we will see more grey hair hanging around Orchard road when my generation becomes 40 years old!
Then how? Encourage people to be more amorous??? Make out like rabbits?
I'm no policy maker so I would not know what is the best solution to the problem. Of course the standard solutions like reducing costs, etc... had been announced by Ah Loong last year during his rally speech (don't send this blog to ISD or I'll be in jail for defamation). Glad that he gave pragmatic solutions and highlighted the problem in time. Although the perks would not result in an immediate boom of babies like the post war period, but I sincerely hope to see more young people around in Singapore over the years when I grow older. heh.
Now why am I talking like Chua Mui Hoong today?
Actually everything boils down to having more young people to support the economy so that the older workers do not have to work to help sustain the economy so that they could work for leisure and not for survival. Phew! What a long mouthful. I very cheong hei (long breath in cantonese) right?
Then people like my parents and also the older ones who had seen the war days could really enjoy their twilight years in Singapore. They had helped build our country to what it is today, times when most young people are glued to computer screens playing dota and maplestory (like what my sickening bro is doing now and refusing me my turn at dota). Wonder what kids do 40 to 50 years ago? I had been to the town of Rockhampton recently. (Sorry Aussies, I really regard it as a town rather than a city as you guys would say). That was a nice place! Very serene, clean air, beautiful natural scenery, comfortable pace of life, tasty beef... I guess all that explained why people are friendlier. What a good place for retirees to settle down!
It would be audacious even to hope that Singapore would somehow transform into such a place for our senior citizens in the future. But still, with all the recent incentives about boosting birth rates, handouts, and help given to older workers, I hope our country would evolve into a place that our senior citizens would feel proud and appreciated enough to live the last of their lives.
Because this is the place they helped to build.
Friday, February 17, 2006
Back against all odds?
For all the drama that happened to my comp yesterday, none of it reenacted today. On the contrary, my comp persevered in a series of miraculous successful bootups to regain my confidence in it. Although its performance wasn't suitable for online games, at least it could do day to day chores like email, blogging, msn-ing, and music.
Mai hiam eh sai lah!
I was so thankful that it came back on the stroke of my desperation. Replacing the comp might sound easy, but it would still cost at least 1k. Moreover, I conducted some tests on my bro's comp today. (i.e. installed online games) Guess what? The games ran flawlessly without the dreaded lag! Woo hoo! Therefore being the stingy low income personnel from the SAF, I decided not to replace my comp!
All gaming needs in the family will be resolved with my bro's brand new comp.
Mai hiam eh sai lah!
I was so thankful that it came back on the stroke of my desperation. Replacing the comp might sound easy, but it would still cost at least 1k. Moreover, I conducted some tests on my bro's comp today. (i.e. installed online games) Guess what? The games ran flawlessly without the dreaded lag! Woo hoo! Therefore being the stingy low income personnel from the SAF, I decided not to replace my comp!
All gaming needs in the family will be resolved with my bro's brand new comp.
Thursday, February 16, 2006
My comp finally broke down for good
Today my computer had a rude surprise for me. It had finally broke down after showing signs of weakness over the past year. I had bought it sometime during august in 2002, so that makes it 3++ years old.
The first signs of its fraility began in the morning when I was surfing the net. Suddenly
its performance slowed to a very uncomfortable lag. It took 30 odd seconds just to display the pop up window when I right clicked my mouse.
Determined not to give up on my comp so easily, (since it revived many times over the past year after some formats and troubleshooting), I decided to use the first law of computer resuscitation. Ctrl+Alt+Del! Guess what? It seemed to acquire a certain immunity towards even the most potent weapon used during troubleshooting back in the MS-DOS days. Since my comp was developing some form of pleasure staring at me right in the face, manually rebooting it by the reset button was a necessity.
The same old lag didn't go away with a reboot. While it used to take a couple of minutes to boot up into windows with all startups loaded, this time it took more than 10 minutes! Even after a few restarts by the reset button, (the comp would not respond to the Ctrl+Alt+Del option anymore) it only went from far to worse. The record timing for a startup was 25 minutes! Omg! What's wrong with my comp? Never surf porn also kena virus meh?
Realising that my comp was capable of everything but functioning properly, I decided that my hard disk deserves a refreshing shower. FORMAT! Finally going to format my comp for the first time since I left university! I thought that would be a universal solution to all problems, be it virus attack, worms, trojan horse, whatever fuck hackers can do to your comp. So as I gingerly inserted my Winxp CD and finished with the formatting of my comp, I heaved a big sigh of relief. Everything's going to be ok! The only chore left to do was the long process of installing the drivers, programs, and GAMES.
Suddenly, as the installation came to the "loading windows setup" stage, my comp shut down! What happened??? I thought it was a random error, so I restarted the whole installation process. It took me 3 tries before I realised that the automatic shut down during installation wasn't any random error. In fact, it was a critical error. Even after using other copies of Winxp disks (I had more that 1 backup of Winxp installation CD), the same error appeared as well. Even with the disks of Win2000, WinME, Win98, Win95, WinNT 4.0, the same error appeared!
Is there a jester in my comp today?
Nearing my wits' end now, I decided to go for a nap! Haha you must be wondering how would I find the mood to sleep at this moment of fired up passion and dispair? hmmm... The only explanation I could give was that such behavior was moulded by the army, especially when you are out in the field. E.g. during navigation exercises, most soldiers cannot avoid the fate of horland-ing (losing your way). So what do soldiers do when they are in a state of desperation, dispair, and anxiety? We sleep.
A good nap certainly has its benefits! For that one hour or so meeting my ancestors online, my mind had certainly refreshed a lot more! At least I can analyse what's wrong with my computer with more patience and composure. I can even feel that my cheek had lost some of its swelling!
I decided to give my comp on last try before I packed it up in a box. Surprisingly, it managed to continue with installation after the dreaded stage! I was so happy that I switched on my brother's comp and played maplestory while it was taking its own sweet time to install.
There were no hitches for the installation this time, until after the part when it was supposed to reboot after copying the files. I wasn't paying full attention to my comp now. My fighter had an experience of 90++% so I was more interested in pushing it to 100% and level up! Of course I still did the routine peek over the shoulder to check on my monitor to see whether the installation had reached a point whereby I had to type something on the keyboard.
At 91%, I checked. The comp was in the MS-DOS screen always seen when I first switched on the comp. So I thought it would take a couple of minutes before it loaded into windows. I resumed with my game.
At 92%, I checked again. The comp was still in MS-DOS mode. Shouldn't it be in windows already? Nvm, play a bit more.
At 93%, I checked again! This time I saw for myself what went wrong. The comp restarted right in front of my eyes! It seemed like it would automatically restart the moment it tried to enter windows. Out of fustration I switched off my comp and continued to play my game.
At 98%, I decided to give my comp another try. Surprisingly it managed without a hitch and went right into the windows desktop which we are all so familiar with. At this stage it would be pointless to carry on with my game because there were a lot of drivers and programs to install.
Off with my brother's comp and back to the hot seat.
It doesn't take an idiot to realise that something was terribly wrong when it took 1 minute to open "my computer" on a freshly installed Winxp. Worse, some drivers that usually took less a minute to install now took 3-4 minutes! Would there ever be an end to my comp's woes?
Finally I made up my mind to buy a new comp. So the first step was to open internet explorer (which took 3 minutes from depressing the icon to the loading of the browser window), type "sim lim square price list" in google search and click the relavant links.
As I surfed through the catalogs of pricelists, somehow I felt a need to pay tribute to my comp via this blog which I started yesterday. Despite its fickleness today, it had served me throughout my university days. It was the only source of entertainment in my otherwise stifled hostel room. It accompanied me through many CS, Warcraft 3, Diablo 2, Dota sessions I had with my hostel mates. It even worked tirelessly for me while I virtually had it going for 24/7 when I was rushing through my thesis. It was also there for me when I had to download lecture notes online via IVLE. With all these fond memories in mind, I typed "www.blogspot.com" in the url of my current browser. Dramatically enough, it locked down the moment I pressed the "-> Go" button. Now my comp is refusing entry to windows again. Even with the occasional success, its performance would be an insult to a P4 2.26 Ghz.
I had decided to let my comp die with honour than live with disgrace. Repairing is not cost effective because I had just sent it for repairs 2 months ago during december 05. Its fickleness will only cost more in the long run, so might as well sent it to sim lim for a major overhaul. But it wouldn't be now because I'm on MC and my face is still swollen. Maybe people who have a fetish for puffer fish or toad skill will come up to me and give me a peck on my cheek. Otherwise I would consider myself a social hazard to kids.
This blog was written on my bro's comp.
So long now, old friend!
The first signs of its fraility began in the morning when I was surfing the net. Suddenly
its performance slowed to a very uncomfortable lag. It took 30 odd seconds just to display the pop up window when I right clicked my mouse.
Determined not to give up on my comp so easily, (since it revived many times over the past year after some formats and troubleshooting), I decided to use the first law of computer resuscitation. Ctrl+Alt+Del! Guess what? It seemed to acquire a certain immunity towards even the most potent weapon used during troubleshooting back in the MS-DOS days. Since my comp was developing some form of pleasure staring at me right in the face, manually rebooting it by the reset button was a necessity.
The same old lag didn't go away with a reboot. While it used to take a couple of minutes to boot up into windows with all startups loaded, this time it took more than 10 minutes! Even after a few restarts by the reset button, (the comp would not respond to the Ctrl+Alt+Del option anymore) it only went from far to worse. The record timing for a startup was 25 minutes! Omg! What's wrong with my comp? Never surf porn also kena virus meh?
Realising that my comp was capable of everything but functioning properly, I decided that my hard disk deserves a refreshing shower. FORMAT! Finally going to format my comp for the first time since I left university! I thought that would be a universal solution to all problems, be it virus attack, worms, trojan horse, whatever fuck hackers can do to your comp. So as I gingerly inserted my Winxp CD and finished with the formatting of my comp, I heaved a big sigh of relief. Everything's going to be ok! The only chore left to do was the long process of installing the drivers, programs, and GAMES.
Suddenly, as the installation came to the "loading windows setup" stage, my comp shut down! What happened??? I thought it was a random error, so I restarted the whole installation process. It took me 3 tries before I realised that the automatic shut down during installation wasn't any random error. In fact, it was a critical error. Even after using other copies of Winxp disks (I had more that 1 backup of Winxp installation CD), the same error appeared as well. Even with the disks of Win2000, WinME, Win98, Win95, WinNT 4.0, the same error appeared!
Is there a jester in my comp today?
Nearing my wits' end now, I decided to go for a nap! Haha you must be wondering how would I find the mood to sleep at this moment of fired up passion and dispair? hmmm... The only explanation I could give was that such behavior was moulded by the army, especially when you are out in the field. E.g. during navigation exercises, most soldiers cannot avoid the fate of horland-ing (losing your way). So what do soldiers do when they are in a state of desperation, dispair, and anxiety? We sleep.
A good nap certainly has its benefits! For that one hour or so meeting my ancestors online, my mind had certainly refreshed a lot more! At least I can analyse what's wrong with my computer with more patience and composure. I can even feel that my cheek had lost some of its swelling!
I decided to give my comp on last try before I packed it up in a box. Surprisingly, it managed to continue with installation after the dreaded stage! I was so happy that I switched on my brother's comp and played maplestory while it was taking its own sweet time to install.
There were no hitches for the installation this time, until after the part when it was supposed to reboot after copying the files. I wasn't paying full attention to my comp now. My fighter had an experience of 90++% so I was more interested in pushing it to 100% and level up! Of course I still did the routine peek over the shoulder to check on my monitor to see whether the installation had reached a point whereby I had to type something on the keyboard.
At 91%, I checked. The comp was in the MS-DOS screen always seen when I first switched on the comp. So I thought it would take a couple of minutes before it loaded into windows. I resumed with my game.
At 92%, I checked again. The comp was still in MS-DOS mode. Shouldn't it be in windows already? Nvm, play a bit more.
At 93%, I checked again! This time I saw for myself what went wrong. The comp restarted right in front of my eyes! It seemed like it would automatically restart the moment it tried to enter windows. Out of fustration I switched off my comp and continued to play my game.
At 98%, I decided to give my comp another try. Surprisingly it managed without a hitch and went right into the windows desktop which we are all so familiar with. At this stage it would be pointless to carry on with my game because there were a lot of drivers and programs to install.
Off with my brother's comp and back to the hot seat.
It doesn't take an idiot to realise that something was terribly wrong when it took 1 minute to open "my computer" on a freshly installed Winxp. Worse, some drivers that usually took less a minute to install now took 3-4 minutes! Would there ever be an end to my comp's woes?
Finally I made up my mind to buy a new comp. So the first step was to open internet explorer (which took 3 minutes from depressing the icon to the loading of the browser window), type "sim lim square price list" in google search and click the relavant links.
As I surfed through the catalogs of pricelists, somehow I felt a need to pay tribute to my comp via this blog which I started yesterday. Despite its fickleness today, it had served me throughout my university days. It was the only source of entertainment in my otherwise stifled hostel room. It accompanied me through many CS, Warcraft 3, Diablo 2, Dota sessions I had with my hostel mates. It even worked tirelessly for me while I virtually had it going for 24/7 when I was rushing through my thesis. It was also there for me when I had to download lecture notes online via IVLE. With all these fond memories in mind, I typed "www.blogspot.com" in the url of my current browser. Dramatically enough, it locked down the moment I pressed the "-> Go" button. Now my comp is refusing entry to windows again. Even with the occasional success, its performance would be an insult to a P4 2.26 Ghz.
I had decided to let my comp die with honour than live with disgrace. Repairing is not cost effective because I had just sent it for repairs 2 months ago during december 05. Its fickleness will only cost more in the long run, so might as well sent it to sim lim for a major overhaul. But it wouldn't be now because I'm on MC and my face is still swollen. Maybe people who have a fetish for puffer fish or toad skill will come up to me and give me a peck on my cheek. Otherwise I would consider myself a social hazard to kids.
This blog was written on my bro's comp.
So long now, old friend!
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Wisdom tooth!
I had just removed my wisdom tooth yesterday (140206). That had created quite a hoo ha in my unit because I was able to skip one week of outfield training. For the benefit of those who hasn't served NS before, let me tell you the whole story.
Our company was supposed to support 3 Guards Battalion in their full troop exercise for this whole week as enemies. Fortunately for me, my secondary school friend called me up for a wisdom tooth extraction. (He is a final dentistry student at NUH now.) And even more good fortune to come, my PC actually allowed me to go! Woo hoo! This appointment couldn't be more timely.
To be honest I had actually turned down my friend a couple of times earlier because then I was either on course or had guard duty. However, I knew that I couldn't turn him down forever because he needs to perform on patients so that he could be graded and eventually graduate.
Since I was free yesterday, I decided to answer his call for once. Anyway according to him, that tooth ,"doesn't help in chewing and only serves to accumulate more bacteria to cause the decay of the tooth in front of it."
Sounds like a liability isn't it?
The whole procedure wasn't very painful, and it's very cheap! Only $36++! I heard from my friends that they had paid close to $400 for the same surgery. Of course I had to take the risk of letting an apprentice operate on me. Fortunately he was a lot more pro than I had expected. Phew!
A few hours later...
Real agony set in! The immediate few hours after the surgery was the most unbearable. The wound would bleed constantly because the blood around there was trying to clot. So my mouth was full of blood every now and then. I could actually feel my pulse around the wound. So disgusting!
One day later...
Alright! The bleeding had finally stopped! But I ended up with a very huge swelling.
Our company was supposed to support 3 Guards Battalion in their full troop exercise for this whole week as enemies. Fortunately for me, my secondary school friend called me up for a wisdom tooth extraction. (He is a final dentistry student at NUH now.) And even more good fortune to come, my PC actually allowed me to go! Woo hoo! This appointment couldn't be more timely.
To be honest I had actually turned down my friend a couple of times earlier because then I was either on course or had guard duty. However, I knew that I couldn't turn him down forever because he needs to perform on patients so that he could be graded and eventually graduate.
Since I was free yesterday, I decided to answer his call for once. Anyway according to him, that tooth ,"doesn't help in chewing and only serves to accumulate more bacteria to cause the decay of the tooth in front of it."
Sounds like a liability isn't it?
The whole procedure wasn't very painful, and it's very cheap! Only $36++! I heard from my friends that they had paid close to $400 for the same surgery. Of course I had to take the risk of letting an apprentice operate on me. Fortunately he was a lot more pro than I had expected. Phew!
A few hours later...
Real agony set in! The immediate few hours after the surgery was the most unbearable. The wound would bleed constantly because the blood around there was trying to clot. So my mouth was full of blood every now and then. I could actually feel my pulse around the wound. So disgusting!
One day later...
Alright! The bleeding had finally stopped! But I ended up with a very huge swelling.
Ok I sound a bit narcissistic here. Anyway I'm still in the bloated stage right now. Will post a copy of myself without the swell soon!
Ah Lang
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